By the Pricking of My Thumbs
by The Bargheist
Summary: A vampire devastates several units of her organization's army before fleeing to England. She and her own squad follow to try and stop it with the help of the Hellsing organization. Rating may change later. Warning:I suck at summaries.Finally updated.
1. Nightmares and Coffee

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hellsing or any of it's characters**

_-this indicates thoughts-_

I decided I wasn't completely satisfied with this first chapter so I did a little editing. enjoy

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**Chapter 1-Nightmares and Coffee**

_FIRE! THERE'S FIRE ALL AROUND ME! I'M GOING TO DIE!! NO!! PLEASE NO!! STOP THIS! DON'T DO THIS TO ME!!_

My eyes shot open only to see the ceiling above my bed, grey in the dim light coming from beneath the bedroom door. I sat upright, taking in a shaky breath and trying to tell myself that it was nothing: it was only a dream which has no power over me. The cold sweat which covered me along with my pounding heart begged to differ. How many nights of sleep have been disrupted because of that dream, that nightmare, that…… horrific memory. Too many, and it is always the same: the fire, the screams _–my screams-_ and that laughter which I cannot escape no matter how hard I try. And then there is that one sentence, that one line of mistranslated scripture: _Thou shall not suffer a witch to live._

I'm just thankful this particular nightmare doesn't plague me as often as it used to: just after the……….incident I would wake up screaming every night, but that was several years ago and……. _-BAH! Okay that's it. I'm ending this severely unpleasant train of thought now!-_

sigh -_I guess seeing as there is absolutely no chance of me getting back to sleep now I might as well get up and go find a cup of coffee; it'll make me feel better and there is always fresh coffee somewhere in this rabbit warren, it just sometimes takes a little determination and effort to find-._ Where you have people up at all hours of the night you have coffee; then again, it's probably more accurate to say that where you have conscious people in just about any type of workplace you have coffee.

I sat there for another moment or so deciding where to try for coffee first before swinging my feet over the edge of the bed and standing up. _-Right, now should I bother getting dressed? Nah, slippers and robe over my p.j.'s will do, I need coffee and it's not like anyone will really care at this time of night-._ I found my slippers and bathrobe, put them on and then head towards the door; I paused only to grab my card-key, ID-badge and a small pocket sized handgun before exiting the room to search for my precious coffee.

I only had to wander around for about ten minutes until I came upon one of this sector's guard stations. Only two men were inside and I knew both of them from previous nightmare induced coffee hunts. One looked up from the monitors and saw me in the doorway. "Hey Shaw, coffee hunting?"

I gave a halfhearted smile, "Yeah." The guard got up and fixed me a cup as I came in and sat down in one of the spare chairs. While the first got me coffee the guard number two glanced at me, taking in my attire and the dark circles beneath my eyes. "Can't sleep?" Guard number one handed me my coffee and I took a sip. _–Oh thank you GOD! Fresh coffee!-_

"No, can't sleep"

I suppose an introduction and a little bit of explanation are in order. I am a part of a secret U.S. military organization which deals with major threats to our nation's security. What makes us different from the rest of the military is the fact that what we deal with aren't your garden variety terrorists and homegrown psychopaths trying to bring chaos and destruction: that's the FBI and CIA's bit. No, our job is to protect the country from less……mundane threats. It is our job to deal with the things that go bump in the night. You know, all those monsters under your bed and in your closet? The ones your parents told you weren't real? That they told you were just your imagination? Well, hate to break it to you but they are very real; they just don't live under your bed. Mostly.

As for me, my name is Keaira Shaw and, officially, I don't exist.

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This is my first fan-fic so I would appreciate any input you can give me, and please someone review this time


	2. Politicians

Here is chapter two for you. There's a little more of an explanation in this one and don't worry: Integra, Alucard and the rest of the Hellsing crew will be making an appearance later on in the story. If I just jumped into the point where Keaira meets them you would have no idea what was going on. And yes I know the first two chapters are kinda slow: they are more a kind of introduction. Things should pick up in the next chapter or so. I've also made a couple little changes to this chapter. Nothing major.

_-indicates Keaira's thoughts-_

**Disclaimer: As much as would like to, I do not own Hellsing or any of their people...errr vampires.

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**Chapter Two-Politicians  
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Hello, my name is Keaira (pronounced Keera) Shaw; I am twenty-seven years old, female and a member of a secret military organization responsible for the control and destruction of supernatural threats to the good 'ol US of A; we are known as the "Agency for the Defense Against Hell" or "ADAH". Pretty pathetic name I know, but it could always have been worse; for instance, if I had been in charge of the name I probably would have gone for "Division 666". Heh, I would have been amused but I sincerely doubt the higher ups would have shared in my mirth. Anyway, at the head of this little party is General Sanders, after him comes Colonels Davis and Jefferies; and the Major pains in my ars… err….. I mean Majors Roberts and Ericson. After the top officers there are a motley crew of captains and their lieutenants. I won't run through all the names here, primarily because I can never remember them; however, each captain and lieutenant pair is in charge of one unit. I am the lieutenant of unit six, we call ourselves unit Styx (don't ask), and our boss is Captain Jason Ackart. As well as being unit six's lieutenant I have other qualities which make me… somewhat useful I suppose, it was because of these qualities that I ended up here in the first place; in fact, it was because of these qualities that a lot of stuff happened to me, both good and bad. Take this morning for example, it is because of those certain qualities of mine that I am in my current position, and it is because of my current position that I am about to endure what must be the third circle of hell: a meeting with _politicians_.

I'm bored, I'm tired and I'm cranky. Oh the joys of dealing with a bunch of bureaucratic bullshit. It has been a week since my last nightmare which means that I have actually been able to sleep for, more or less, the entire night. Tonight has been an exception, as here I am sitting in a conference room wearing my ever-so-very uncomfortable dress uniform complete with a skirt (which means that I also have to wear uncomfortable dress shoes and a pair of stupid nylon stockings) at a time which I would most definitely describe as un-godly: a good three hours before I usually wake up, one o-clock in the bloody morning. Yes, that's right 1pm. Stupid pentagon. Stupid secretary of defense. Why the heck did they decide that they wanted to schedule a fucking meeting this early in the fucking day, and to make matters worse they are late!

I turned to my neighbor to express my colourful point of view on the subject.

"You know Shaw, most people consider this to be the afternoon and thus not an even remotely unreasonable hour to be awake. It's not these asses' fault that we have to keep some seriously messed up hours, you know" I glared at him.

"I never said it was their fault my hours are fucked-up, I just think that they should take into consideration the kinds of hours we have to keep. And if they are going to insist on setting up meetings so early in the morning then they should at least make an effort to, oh I don't know, show up on time." My neighbor simply chuckled and went back to drinking his coffee. I had finished mine some time ago, in fact I had finished my third cup of coffee some time ago; unfortunately, my neighbor (who also happened to be my Captain) had refused to let me have another one telling me to save some for the rest of "us poor slobs". Poor slobs my ass. The only reason I didn't deck him was the fact that he was my commanding officer.

If you haven't figured this out by now, not only am I not a morning person but I also have a strange concept of when the morning actually is. I guess you could say that I work the night shift and so my concepts of day and night have been somewhat messed up; however, it's not a big deal seeing as every other living soul who works the "night shift" suffers from the same problem.

I looked at the clock and groaned. My commanding officer in this little exercise in futility looked over at me and raised one eyebrow.

"Yes? Is there a problem sir?" I asked while starting to tap my fingers on the table in irritation at the stupid late people. I'm really not this immature or ticked off all the time; I simply do not deal well with the prospect of having to sit and listen to a bunch of bureaucrats as they whine on about our expenditures, or when they start going on about how they don't like our methods.

"Lieutenant Shaw?"

"Yes Captain Ackart?"

"Do you intend to act this way the entire meeting?"

"No sir, just until the bureaucrats get here or until I get another cup of coffee. After all, it wouldn't help us to show the damn government officials anything they could interpret as a sign of incompetence. They'll use any excuse they can to cut back on our funds."

"No kidding. If I've learned anything in all the years I've served under the General it's that when it comes to money the big bosses will cut on the stuff that's really needed before touching their own big fat paychecks." I nodded and stopped tapping on the table only to start drumming my fingers on it instead.

Ackart sighed, "Are you going to be stopping that anytime soon?"

"Stopping what?" I asked innocently: he should know by now that either I get my coffee or I will find something else to occupy my mind with which, more often than not, will drive everyone else insane.

"Fine, go get your coffee before you drive me up the wall."

"Yes sir." -_Finally! If I'm going to be dealing with frickin' politicians I'm going to need some more coffee-_ Once again, I am not a morning person.

I retrieved my coffee and sat back down to enjoy it. Taking a sip, I took the opportunity to look around and see who had been dragged into hell with me and the good captain. It looked like unit three's captain and lieutenant had been coerced into making an appearance: Cpt. Berkley and Lt. Andrews were notorious for "becoming unavailable" at the last minute when it came to such meetings.- _Let's seen who else-_, the captains from units one and four were here, but not their lieutenants. -_Huh, they must have been left in charge of their units in case something happens, or they found some way to weasel out of this, the lucky bastards.- _

Surprisingly someone had gone to the trouble of hauling the heads of research and development out of their lab, how I wish I could have been there to see that: the difficulty one faces in trying to get unit three's C.O.'s to make an appearance pales in comparison to the challenge of getting the top dogs of R&D to set foot in the conference room, especially with the promise of bureaucracy. Professor Christina Harding is the worst to try and get a hold of for anything other than discussing the new weaponry she's been working on. To say that Harding is kind of reclusive is putting it mildly. Actually, I tend think of her as a kind of hermit crab with the weapons lab as her shell; occasionally moving into a bigger lab as she runs out of space or blows up her old lab, whichever comes first.

The speakerphone in the middle of the table chose that moment to interrupt my musings with a burst of static. "Heads up boys and girls, the politicians are heading your way with the General." The entire room seemed to grumble at this before straightening themselves up to prepare for the invasion. I had only just finished putting on my poker face when the door opened and the enemy arrived. _-Let the games begin-. _

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_-Free at last-. _The meeting was finally over and done with which had left me free to return to the peace and quiet of my private living quarters (one of the perks of my rank), where I could erase all traces of that arduous experience from my mind. I sat down in my big squishy, and ever so comfortable, armchair and looked around my room. It wasn't anything really special: I had a queen sized bed, a desk, a closet and a couple of comfy chairs; I also have some books in a bookcase, numerous storage chests and (my favorite feature of the room) a private bathroom. What my room didn't have was a window and there have been many times where I have deplored this oversight; however, I am eternally grateful to have a space to call my own.

My mind, unfortunately, started to shift it's thoughts from my room to the far less pleasant subject of that meeting which I had only just escaped. It hadn't really been anything special: there had been the usual arguments of cutting our expenses and changing our methods; the latter debate was swiftly settled when Harding asked our "guests" for suggestions of alternative methods as they so despised our own and when they supplied alternatives she logically and mercilessly destroyed them, explaining in detail why each suggestion wouldn't work. I grinned remembering that. _–I love seeing a politician rendered speechless-_The only breech of tradition in these little meetings was the debate as to if and when the new president should be made aware of the organization and the creatures it deals with. Not everyone deals well with the revelation that fairytale monsters really do exist; actually, I have seen people driven insane by this knowledge. As well as the question of how the current president would "deal" with this information, there was the debate as to whether the president would be a lack-wit and try to have a greater say in our activities while having no clue regarding how to properly deal with those aforementioned monsters.

In the end we decided against letting the president in on the big secret. The primary logic behind our decision is that our current president struck most of us as one of those righteous fools who would want to tell the general public, and we all agreed that that would be a very bad idea. Ah, I can see it now: initial disbelief and if he had been provided with evidence to back up his claims the disbelief would be replaced with mass panic, an increase in crime rates and the number of nuts who would be willing to welcome and worship these bogeymen. Yeah, _so_ not a good idea.

I sighed and hauled myself upright and headed to my closet to get ready for this evening's training session: a round of target practice and a couple hours working out in the gym followed by a nice relaxing bath. It would be one of my last chances to take a bath for awhile: we were being deployed next week to replace unit seven (who were coming back in) out in Louisiana. That was the way ADAH worked: usually, a selection of the available units are posted around the country at strategic locations (usually hot spots of supernatural activity) while the rest remained back at H.Q. and every few months or so (unless something major happened) the units stationed at the various bases are swapped out for fresh ones. The troops seemed to like this system compared to being in the regular army and being stuck somewhere away from home and their families for a year or more. They say that our system allows them more time with their families and friends outside the organization. I think this is a good thing seeing as you never know which day is to be your last in our line of work. I tossed my head trying to shake the dark and serious train of thought and turned my attention back to preparation for my nightly training session.

-- -- --

BANG! BANG! BANG! Click, click. There was something innately satisfying about emptying an entire clip into …… well….. just about anything. I had finished my usual two clips of standard marksmanship and now I was amusing myself by shooting the targets until they fell apart.

"Jeez Lieutenant! Save some bullets for the rest of us." I turned my attention to the other members of my unit who were also making use of the shooting range that night. A big red-headed Irish man known as Corporal Jefferies had been the one to comment on my bullet usage.

"Why should I save any? They'd just be wasted seeing as you're such a lousy shot." I said with a smirk.

"Lousy shot!? I'm a better shot than you any day of the week."

"Wanna bet?"

"You're on! What are we betting?" My smirk got wider and I tilted my head to the side. _–Typical Jefferies; always willing to jump headfirst into any challenge without even considering the ramifications. I should dissuade him (especially seeing as I am a far superior marksman), but the men always enjoy something they can bet on, so who am I to deny them a little morale booster? Besides, they always enjoy seeing a loudmouth like Jefferies put in his place. - _As I finished this thought an evil glint came into my eyes which caused the more senior members of our little audience to grin-they knew that look.

"If I win, Jefferies, you have to clean and maintain my guns for three months. And when I say my guns I mean _all_ of my guns." I had a rather extensive collection.

"You're on Shaw. And if I win you have to……to give me your private room for the entire time we're stuck out in Louisiana." I had to hand it to him; he made a really nice choice. I would suffer horribly if I was stuck out in that humid hellhole without my own room. Good thing I had no intention of losing.

We loaded our guns with fresh clips while a couple of the spectators reset the targets (the rest of our audience were too busy placing bets). We took our positions and prepared to fire.

"Any last words, Lieutenant?"

"Yes, be careful when you're cleaning my guns. We wouldn't want you shooting yourself in the foot again, now would we?" That got a snarl from him while I smiled sweetly.

"Just shoot Shaw."

"As you wish, Jefferies." I replied as I took aim and fired.

Ten minutes later I was getting slapped on the back while the corporal was swearing a blue streak and demanding a rematch. I regretfully declined his offer and suggested that he get a good night's …..errr day's sleep. He had a lot of cleaning to do tomorrow. I stretched, said a few 'see you later's then headed to the gym for the rest of my work out for the evening.

In the gym I lifted some weights and used a few of the various other toning contraptions before heading to the treadmill. Personally I hated using the treadmill: I preferred to run outside either in the woods or around the base. Unfortunately, it was raining outside and I hated running in the rain more than I hated using the treadmill. I will say this about the damn thing though, it gives you time to think. While running on the treadmill, I became lost in thought and eventually found myself staring at my reflection in the mirrored wall in front of me. What I saw was wiry 5' 5" female, with modest curves and a c-cup, chest wearing a pair of track suit bottoms and a long-sleeved shirt. Her short blond hair was slightly spiky and more than a little mussed. Her ears were pierced with three small hoops in her right ear and two hoops and a stud in her cartilage in the left. My reflection also showed, what I have been told, is a pretty face: high cheek bone, full lips and delicate little pierced nose; my skin is porcelain white with a light dusting of freckles across my cheek bones and nose. I don't see the prettiness that others apparently see. To me my face looks hardened, and kind of tired, thanks to all I've seen and done. I see a stubborn chin with an ever-so-slight cleft. I see the two inch scar to the left of a pair of eyes which have seen far too much. My eyes themselves are rather strange: they change colour. Sometimes they are a bright jade green while others they are a kind of light greenish, bluish grey with some strange flecks and a ring of yellow in the middle of the irises; however, they are always rimmed with black.

My gaze wandered down from my reflection's face to her arms; specifically, I stared at my forearms while my mind wandered to what I knew lay beneath those sleeves. Very few people had ever seen me in any kind of shirt which didn't completely cover my arms to the wrists. This was because of the scars on those arms which dated back to the incident which was the source of that recurring nightmare. I shook my head trying to dislodge those thoughts of what happened all those years ago. While few people knew of my scars, even fewer people knew the story behind them or knew of my special abilities which almost got me killed; not even my own men know what I am and what I am capable of. Quite frankly it was because of what I am that the incident happened in the first place. It is because of what I am that… _-BAH! Enough of that! - _I don't like thinking about that, quite frankly I'm afraid of what my men would think of me if they ever found out.

_-Right, I've had enough of the treadmill .Maybe having the time to think isn't always a good thing.-_ I gradually slowed down and stopped the treadmill before hopping off to do my stretching and return to my room for a much needed bath. _–I'll have to put some music on or bring a book in with me or something: I've done enough thinking for one evening-

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Please, once again, review after you read. I would like to know if I'm doing alright or if I should just pack it in.


	3. Emergency

Sorry it took me so long to update. Not a whole lot of time lately and I just could not make myself happy with this chapter. Anyway, more exciting things have happened and more should happen in the next chapter too (which shouldn't take me as long as this one did to write). Please, please, please read and review. I would hate to have to track you down and beat you with a wet fish.

_-indicates Keaira's thoughts-_

**Disclaimer:**I don't own Hellsing or it's characters but the ADAH crew are all mine (If I owned Alucard I would be off having him eat people I don't like and generally abusing his powers)

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**Chapter Three-Emergency**

"UNITS THREE, SIX AND THIRTEEN! REPORT FOR EMERGENCY BRIEFING IN HALL ELEVEN! I REPEAT. UNITS THREE, SIX AND THIRTEEN! REPORT FOR EMERGENCY BRIEFING IN HALL ELEVEN!"

The bellow coming through on the PA system had me bolting upright, falling out of bed and landing on my head. _–SHIT! That hurt! - _I scrambled to my feet and shot over to my closet, almost falling yet again in the process. I was rushing to get dressed and get moving: you don't hang about when the box on the wall says emergency and considering what was normal for ADAH (the bloodthirsty monsters under the bed out and causing chaos) an emergency usually indicated an apocalyptic type event was imminent.

Two minutes after I had fallen out of bed I was sprinting down the corridor as fast as I could go while still trying to pull on my boots. Looking up I spotted Capt. Ackard ahead of me, strapping on his sidearm as he ran.

"Captain!" Ackard glanced back at me, without slowing down, as I tucked my laces into my boots (there wasn't enough time to stop and tie them) and caught up. "What's the situation, sir?"

"No clue. Just keep running." We soon caught up with unit three and the rest of our unit, all of whom were legging it as fast as they could.

"Ackard! Shaw!" The captain and I turned to see unit three's Capt. Berkley and Lt. Andrews coming up beside us.

"Any idea what they have us up so early for?" I shook my head. "No clue. Just keep running." My Captain shot me a quick grin (for hearing his words come from my mouth) just as the hall doors came into sight.

Inside hall eleven, unit thirteen was already fully assembled, with their commanding officers standing at the front of the room. The other three newly arrived officers and I hurried to join Captain Alexis Jacobs and Lieutenant Mick Redding at the front of the room while our boys and girls took their positions. About three minutes after we arrived, General Sanders strode in from a door to the front of the room with Colonel Davis trailing behind him.

"ATTENTION!" I bellowed in my best drill sergeant voice. All of the over one hundred and fifty men and women stood at attention and saluted the General who returned their salutes before nodding to the officers.

"At ease. We don't have the time to pussy foot around. At 0100 hours this morning unit seven engaged a hostile target. The entire unit was obliterated. Before the last men fell they were able to get out a call for back up to unit fourteen back at New Orleans base. Unit fourteen responded accordingly only to lose half their men. The rest are on the casualty list." By this point the entire room had fallen into a state of shock myself included.

"Unit eleven went in after being unable to achieve radio contact with the seventh or fourteenth. They found no sign of the target, just the surviving members of fourteen and only a few bodies. It seems that the target took the rest with it and they may have been turned into ghouls." Even the most disciplined among us couldn't suppress a shudder or a curse upon hearing that juicy little tidbit of information. "Yes, we are dealing with a vampire; however, as of yet we do not have enough information to determine whether our target is a true vampire or merely some freak-chipped creature. What matters at the moment is that New Orleans is under threat and undermanned. Prepare to mobilize; we move out at 1300 hours- you have three hours to pull yourselves together. Dismissed!" As the soldiers started leaving the hall, most of them running, the General turned to the officers.

"If you would care join me for a moment." It wasn't a suggestion.

We followed the General to the door through which he had originally entered and into a small conference room where he motioned for us to each take a seat. Another non-suggestion and he didn't waste time with pleasantries before getting down to business.

"Upon arrival, your top priority will be the evacuation of injured personnel and the removal of the dead. Capt. Jacobs, Lt. Redding, your unit will be responsible for loading the dead and injured onto the aircraft as soon as they are prepared. Capt. Berkley, Lt. Andrews, your unit will be responsible for the unloading, sorting and storage of everything in the aircraft cargo holds. There will also be fresh medical personnel and supplies going out with you to replace those in New Orleans. The medical staff currently in New Orleans will be coming back with the wounded to ensure they make it through the flight. Capt. Ackard, Lt. Shaw, unit six will be taking over security at the base. Unit eleven will be in dire need of a reprieve so the base's defenses will be solely in your hands until units thirteen and three have finished with their tasks. Once the New Orleans base has been sorted out your next assignment will be to locate and terminate the target. As we have already taken heavy losses while the target's resources have increased, every precaution is to be taken; you are to take into account every possible eventuality and use every trick in the book to bring this bastard down. Any questions?"

"I take it we are assuming that the target will make an attempt on the base?"

"Yes, until we know otherwise we are going to assume worst case scenario and that the target will either go after the base or start attacking civilians. Any further questions?"

"What about Capt. Thompson and Lt. Edwards of the fourteenth? I know we lost Riddle and Rice, but what about the fourteenth's officers?" Everyone seemed to lean forward to hear Sanders' reply.

"They're alive, for the moment. Edwards is in critical condition but Thompson could wake up any time now." A small sigh of relief went through the room: all of the Captains and Lieutenants of ADAH more or less knew each other to some degree so it was some comfort to know that we hadn't lost Edwards and Thompson on top of losing the officers of the thirteenth. Sanders cleared his throat.

"You are dismissed. Ackard, Shaw, hang back a moment if you would." My captain and I exchanged glances and sat back down from our half-standing positions and waited with the General while the others left. Once the door shut the General began.

"Right then, Shaw, I know that very few of the other officers and lower ranks know what you are and that there is a limit to what you can do, but with a threat of this magnitude we are going to need anything and everything you can give us from your bag of tricks. This means that you are going to be in the front lines when you finally go after this SOB, got it?"

I swallowed hard: I had used my abilities in small, unnoticeable ways on previous missions; however, this mission was going to carry a heavy risk of exposure and I had no idea how the regular soldiers would react if they were to find out what I was. I was pretty sure that they wouldn't take it well. Despite these unpleasant thoughts, I nodded an affirmative. "Yes sir." After all, what choice did I really have?

The General nodded and Ackard gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Good, you are dismissed. Get moving and may God go with you."

We didn't hang around after dismissal. I for one still had to shower and pack _everything_ I would need: we, or at least Ackard and myself, hadn't been expecting to be deployed until early next week. Then again, I don't think that anyone could have anticipated this situation, especially considering how quiet New Orleans has been lately.

Initially after the levees broke in New Orleans, during hurricane Katrina, the city was a haven for the creatures of the night: hundreds of abandoned buildings to take shelter in; large numbers of humans still trapped, and possibly injured, to serve as food and all the water didn't prove to be much of a hindrance to the undead seeing as it wasn't technically 'running'. However, as the 'food supply' diminished with the arrival of aid and as ADAH's forces in the area tripled, New Orleans became less appealing and 'monster' activity in the area all but ceased entirely. Of course there were always a few necromancers and less than friendly Voodoo priests in the older sections of the city (the ones above sea level), and there were always one or two werewolves in the swamps, hungry for human flesh; however, by large New Orleans was no longer a major hotspot on our radar. Perhaps this is what gave our latest threat the opening: we weren't really expecting anything serious from New Orleans so we started distributing our resources elsewhere leaving New Orleans vulnerable. This is what happens when 'budget constraints' are applied to a monster hunting organization- we end up not having enough resources to go around.

Racing to my room I almost didn't slow down in time to avoid a collision with the door. I slid my key card into the slot and waited for the little green light…...which seemed to be taking twice as long as it should. Once I was _finally_ inside, with the door shut behind me, I bolted for the bathroom: we still had two and a half hours before deployment and I had no intention of spending an entire day with un-brushed teeth and an unwashed body. It's not like it would take me very long anyway.

Standing in the hot spray of the shower, my thoughts turned to the accursed subject of vampires. From what our research has uncovered, vampires have existed since the dawn of modern human (homo-sapiens) history, and, like homo-sapiens, they haven't really evolved much. Vampires "reproduce" when a vampire bites a human virgin of the opposite gender thus turning that virgin into a fledgling vampire, whereas non-virgins become mindless ghouls after the vampire's bite; furthermore, while a fledgling vampire has more free will than a ghoul they are still bound to obey the will of and share the fate of their master until the day they taste that master's blood. A Midian (vampire) can be destroyed, or in the very least injured, by fire, silver, holy artifacts and sunlight; on top of this, a vampire cannot cross running water. Finally, only the oldest vampires have ever been able to overcome the limitations of their species to any extent. That is, until now.

Over the past several months we have been encountering vampires who are unaffected by sunlight and running water and upon whom, silver and religious artifacts have a somewhat limited affect. Not only are these vampires young and yet still able to walk around in broad daylight, but anyone and everyone who is bitten by one of these vampires turns into a ghoul. _Everyone_, virgins included. We couldn't figure out what in hell these new freaks were until we managed to kill a couple of them without reducing them to piles of ash. When Research and Development performed autopsies on the remains they found several strange microchips implanted in each corpse. It turned out we had been dealing with artificially created vampires: humans turned into vampires by science. As time went on we found ourselves encountering fewer true vampires but an increasing number of these "freak-chip" creatures, and it wasn't only the US which was becoming infested: reports from our British and Italian counterparts, the Hellsing Organization and the fucking Vatican's Iscariot Organization (respectively), show an increasing number of encounters with these chipped freaks but as of yet no one has any idea as to who is manufacturing these things. _-Even just thinking about those damn chips gives me a headache- _I sighed and headed to my closet for the second time that day.

Clean and dressed in my uniform, I started shoving things into my duffle bag: toiletries, spare uniforms, a couple books, my mp3 player (you never know when you might get bored) and my gun cleaning kit- basically I packed the necessities and only a few small personal items. Once my bag was full I turned my attention to the large wooden trunk in the bottom of my closet. It was in that trunk that I kept the tools of my craft: those items required by one of my kind to help us tap into our powers. I treated the contents of this box with far more care and consideration than I had given to the contents of my duffel bag and I took out only that which I might need, all of which went into a smaller wooden box which in turn was placed into a slightly larger metal case for protection during transit. _–Right. Now that that's sorted, time to get my toys. - _I went over to and opened a metal locker built into the far wall by my bed and proceeded to take out 'my toys'. I took out a selection of silver knives (which I strapped to my calf, belt and forearms) as well as my side arms which I checked and loaded before strapping them to my thighs. Once armed, I grabbed a few extra clips (loaded with silver bullets) and stuck them in my pockets before shutting and locking the metal cupboard. Any other weaponry I might need would be provided on site so I wasn't going to overload myself now no matter how much I would have preferred to bring all my own guns to this little party. I sighed. What can I say I'm attached; I've put a lot of time and effort into maintaining those little beauties.

I glanced at the clock on the wall: 1130 hours. We still had an hour and a half before departure but I didn't have time to be lounging around: I still had to make sure my stuff got on the plane and then supervise my men and women as they sorted out and loaded their belongings (though they should have done that by now) and assembled. I pulled on my coat, complete with the stripes which denoted my rank, and grabbed my duffle bag and trunk before heading out the door to oversee the organized chaos.

-- -- --

I hated flying. I particularly hated flying in military aircraft. The accursed things seemed to be designed purely to transport a largest possible number of individuals from point "A" to point "B" with little, or no, consideration put to what the condition of those individuals would be during the flight. I groaned as I stretched: trying to work out the kinks in my muscles that came from spending several hours under cramped conditions. We had landed just a few minutes ago at the New Orleans base and each newly arrived unit was currently performing, or preparing to perform, their assigned tasks having been told the details of our current mission during the flight. I myself was supervising my assembling unit with my captain as we waited for the captain of unit eleven to make an appearance.

"ACKARD! SHAW! It's about time you got here! I was beginning to think that ADAH had left us to fend for ourselves!" The captain and I turned to watch as a giant of a man strode towards us from the main building of the compound. The black man was at least 6'7" and built like a quarterback.

"For pity's sake Jackson, it hasn't even been twenty-four hours since the incident. What? Did you want us to ignore the laws of physics and arrive before we left?" Ackard strode forward to grasp Captain Jackson's forearm and slap him on the back. I would have smiled had this reunion been under different circumstances.

"All joking aside Jason, I'm fucking glad to see this lot. You don't know what it was like going in to find that mess: twenty-five men injured and unconscious; three bodies, literally ripped apart and scattered all over; and the blood, there was blood all over the fucking place." Jackson sighed and ran a hand over his face. He looked tired; both physically and mentally. "Come on. Let's go inside and get my unit switched over with yours while Berkley and Jacobs' kiddies do their bit." Ackard turned to me and nodded. I inclined my head and started hollering at unit Styx.

"FALL IN AND MOVE OUT! WE DON'T HAVE TIME TO WAIT FOR YOUR BAGS! THEY'LL BE SORTED LATER! JUST MOVE!" I started jogging after Ackard and Jackson at a good clip and my unit followed. They were already outfitted with their weaponry and Kevlar vests so we wouldn't have to make a side trip; it was a good thing too as I didn't know what was available here after the incident this morning. Once inside the main building I told each squad (there are fifty men in a unit and about ten men in a squad) where to go and what to do when they got there before sending them off with a few last words of….encouragement.

"You have your orders, now move. Oh, and if you fuck up I'll personally nail your asses to the wall before serving you on a silver platter to the first ghouls I find."

I was not in the mood to deal with incompetent fools and I could see my subordinates knew it if the way they practically jumped to carry out my orders was anything to go on. I sincerely doubted that any officer would be lenient with screw-ups today.

After the last squad scurried off I tracked down Ackard and Jackson in the briefing room beside the "control room" or "central hub "of the compound where a few members of my unit where already taking over from unit eleven. As I walked into the briefing room, both Ackard and Jackson stopped talking and turned to look at me.

"I've sent all the little boys and girls off to play." I said. Ackard gave a half smile that almost reached his eyes.

"Good. The rest of our officers should be here before too much longer."

"It's been a while since I really saw you, but I'm gonna take a wild guess and say that you need some coffee." Jackson offered.

I gave a tired smile and said thanks as Jackson poured me that much needed cup of coffee. I took a sip and sighed in pleasure and relief.

"Gods above: I needed that. We all got fed on the plane but I haven't had a cup of coffee all day. That's probably one of the reasons my poor unit was in such a hurry to get to work and away from me." The captains chuckled.

"Can you really blame them?" I thought about it for a minute and shook my head no.

"I guess I can't. Quite frankly _I_ wouldn't want to deal with me first thing in the morning when I haven't had my coffee, let alone a sleep deprived me who hasn't had any coffee." Ackard gave a small smile.

"Yes. I can vouch from personal experience that you can be very dangerous in that state. You also have surprisingly good aim, even when the unlucky soul is running away from you." He said that last part while rubbing the back of his head in memory which peaked Jackson's curiosity.

"What she get you with?"

"An alarm clock. She didn't even open her eyes to throw it and yet she still managed to hit me square in the back of the head whileI wasrunningaway, and taking evasive action."

"You're kidding me."

"Nope. And she couldn't remember a thing about it when she finally woke up." This had them both laughing. I sighed; I knew it was providing some much needed stress relief for them, Jackson in particular, but did it _have_ to come at my expense? I shook my head and decided to simply go along with it.

"You know, I _should_ feel guilty about nailing you in the head but you _should _have known not to wake me up that early for something as pointless as pinball. And seeing as you didn't, I don't." This only made Jackson laugh even harder while Ackard pulled a face. I rolled my eyes. _–Yeah, real mature. But I guess they need it. We all kinda do so, when in Rome….. - _I stopped rolling my eyes and started pulling my own faces at the Captain.

Jackson's chuckles gradually faded away and an odd look came into his eyes as he tried and failed repeatedly to get our attention.

"Oi! Ackard, Shaw, Thompson woke up." That did it. Ackard and I stopped pulling faces at each other and instead turned to stare at the eleventh captain, but when he didn't continue we started bombarding him with questions. Our were queries reduced to unintelligible noise as our voices blended with one another until Jackson held his hands up, asking for silence.

"He wasn't awake for very long but he was able to fill us in on what happened to them. In between insults, that is." We all gave weak chuckles. Thompson was notorious for insulting anyone and anything that moved, but he generally didn't mean anything by it so most of us viewed his habit as harmless and somewhat entertaining. "Once everyone is here I'll tell you what he said; I'd rather not go through more times than I have to." Ackard and I nodded in agreement; both of us were relieved the old codger had woken up if only for a little while and neither of us could blame Jackson about wanting to keep repetitions of that little tale to a minimum.

"What about Lt. Edwards?" I glanced at my captain. _–That's right; Andy was in critical condition last we heard.-_

"He's stabilized enough to make it through the flight, so with any luck he should pull through." I gave a smile which was weak with relief. _-Two_ _less things for us to worry about; now, if only we could be shut of the one hundred and one things that we _do_ have to worry about-._

A silence fell over the room as each turned inward; all of us thinking about what had been done and what we still had to do as we waited for the other officers. Fortunately we didn't have to wait long until the remaining captains and lieutenants (including Lt. Rebecca Garcia of unit eleven) made their appearance: my mind had been turning to those we had lost which would have most likely reduced me to tears, and I had no intention of breaking down before our target was eliminated.

The officers came in and went through the whole ritual of exchanging greetings and pleasantries with the captain they hadn't seen in a while as they helped themselves to coffee and chairs.

As usual, the ever cheerful Captain Berkley was the first to speak; although, I noticed that he did look a little less chipper than usual.

"Garcia was telling us that Thompson woke up." Jackson looked up from where he had been getting a fresh cup of coffee and nodded.

"Yeah. And he called all of you idiots, among other things, and said that if he doesn't get a truck load of presents while he's in the infirmary he will come after everyone with a machete." A round of soft chuckles followed this comment.

"He also told me what happened when his unit arrived." The chuckles died and even Capt. Berkley's face became sober. Jackson finished getting his coffee and seemed to brace himself for what he had to say as everyone else braced themselves for what they had to hear.

"Unit seven sent out a call for back up around 0130 hours and unit fourteen got there twenty minutes later. Upon arrival they found no one in the command post, the mansion (where the target had originally been spotted) or the surrounding area. There was nothing except for some spent shells, some shrapnel and a lot of blood. They went to check the communication recordings back in the command tent only to find that they had been removed. All of them were taken, even the backup tapes. Fourteen then established and secured the perimeter before attempting to contact us back at base; it was at this point that they discovered that the both the radio and backup radio had been damaged. It was just as someone was sent back to the trucks that the target began making its move." Jackson swallowed and took a deep breath.

"It started with the sentries: picking them off silently one by one while simultaneously taking out those who were still sweeping the mansion and surrounding area. From the descriptions given by the few survivors found on the mansion's grounds and in the mansion itself, the target employed guerilla warfare tactics: attacking, taking out a man or two, and then disappearing before anyone could get a shot off or even get a proper look at it. After the sentries where taken care of the generator, along with the vehicles, was disabled effectively taking out the lights and any possible means of communication they could have rigged as well as making it impossible for them to escape. The target then moved quickly and made a direct assault on the command post."

"We arrived at 0320 hours after being unable to achieve contact with either of the two units dispatched to the location. We found five survivors in the mansion and grounds and nineteen survivors in the command post, including Berkley and Edwards; we also found three corpses, which had been ripped apart and scattered all over; the whole place looked like the set of "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre". As for the target and the rest of our men, there was no sign of them; however, there is a good chance that wherever they are they are well armed: two supply trucks full of extra weaponry and ammunition were missing from the site and the missing soldiers sure as hell didn't leave their guns behind. Overall we've lost seventy-six men, we have twenty-four men on the casualty list and, assuming that none of our boys became vampires, we are looking at a master vampire with at least seventy-three heavily armed ghouls". A pregnant silence fell with that last statement until Lt. Garcia chose to break the silence.

"We are so screwed." I couldn't help but give a weak and shaky laugh.

_-No kidding-

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_

Thank you for reading now _please _review so I won't have to use this (displays very large frozen tuna fish). Thank you! :)


	4. A Prelude to Disaster

Here is the next chapter at last. Sorry it took me so long. I was suffering a little writers block. Anyways, things start to pick up in this chapter and there should be a lot more action in the next. As always, please read and review and the wet fish threat still stands if you fail to comply.

_-indicates Keaira's thoughts-_

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters of Hellsing. I only own those characters of my own creation: Keaira and her cohorts.

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**Chapter Four-A Prelude Disaster**

After the unsettling tale of the misfortune that befell unit fourteen, and Rebecca's colourful summation of the situation, another silence fell over the briefing room as its occupants all turned inward: each becoming lost in their thoughts.

"There was more than one vampire." I was startled and a little confused as my mind tried to relate that statement to what I had been mulling over.

"What Alexis?" Apparently I wasn't the only one confused. Berkley turned to the object of his query, Capt. Jacobs, with a small frown on his face. Seeing her colleagues' confusion, Jacobs explained.

"I was trying to figure out how one vampire could have taken out so many so quickly, and there is only one explanation that makes any sense: one vampire couldn't. There had to be more than one vampire at that mansion." Now that was a highly unsettling thought; unfortunately, Jacobs did have a point. I myself couldn't see how a single vampire could have picked off the sentries and the numerous scouts scattered about the site simultaneously. I had thought that the vampire may have been making use of the newly risen ghouls but that didn't sound overly plausible, for while ghouls are vicious and relentless they don't have the stealth capabilities to take out one half of a scouting pair without the other noticing.

Captain Jacobs took a look around the table before continuing.

"We also have to consider the possibility that some of our missing may have become vampires themselves. After all, we have no idea what variety of vampire we're dealing with, and I know for a fact that Lt. Rice was a virgin (don't ask me how I know)." There was some general nodding around the table and Lt. Mick decided to put in his two cents.

"Those aren't the only unknowns: we don't really have any idea how many ghouls these leeches have. We only know about the ones they got using our men and for all we know these blood suckers could have legions at their disposal." Yet another good, while highly unsettling, point. Jackson rubbed a hand over his face and let out a heavy sigh.

"This mess is developing far too many unknowns for my liking. Berkley, Jacobs? Are your lot done with their chores?"

Berkley shrugged "If they aren't already they should be done soon. They were sorting the stuff out when I left."

"My unit is finished." Jacobs put in. Ackard and Jackson nodded and then Jackson said "In which case we should sort out the patrols schedules." Ackard jumped in with "We should maintain the heightened security: we don't know what this bastard (or bastards) is going to pull and I don't wanna get caught with my pants down, thank you very much."

"Right. My unit should be catching up on their sleep, if they've got any sense, and Ackard's unit is running security at the moment so….."

-- -- --

_-ugh, I thought I was a trump card, so why did I get stuck on security detail why my_ dear_ captain Ackard gets to take a nap!?- _ The sun was low in the sky, the officers' meeting had finished a couple hours ago and I was now bored out of my skull as I sat in the control room supervising the unfortunate souls trapped here with me as they monitored the feeds from the security cameras and the radio communications of the rest of my unit patrolling the compound. The grouchy, whiny little voice in the back of my head was complaining bitterly about my presence here while the rational voice was trying to drown it out, stating that an officer's presence was required here to give orders and co-ordinate the efforts of each squad if and when something actually happens. The whiny voice was louder.

I groaned and sipped my coffee. My only consolation was that my current activity was mildly more entertaining than the second half of that earlier meeting where we discussed such riveting topics as 'which unit gets guard duty at such and such a time' and 'who gets to sleep where'. The most entertaining part of that discussion was Berkley and Jacobs arguing over who got these supposedly 'special quarters'. The only special thing I could see about them was that they smelled slightly better than my own room, which I was now sharing with Rebecca Garcia due to the limited number of availible officer's quarters which in turn was due to the increased number of units being stationed here. I'm just glad that there weren't so many officers here that we'd have to take turn using the beds.

"Keaira!" There was a voice I would know anywhere. I turned my head to face Lt. Garcia as she strode into the room making a bee line for where I sat in a near stupor against the back wall.

"Hey Becca. Shouldn't you be asleep like any sane person would be?" The tiny Latino woman laughed.

"Since when have I ever been considered 'sane'?"

"I don't know. Perhaps when you were a child and your dementia had yet to really flourish." This time she emitted more of a snort.

"My my, is someone a little grumpy?" I rolled my eyes.

"Seriously, I know why I am still awake, Rebecca, but why are you still up? I would have thought you would've hit the sack first chance you got." She glanced down at the floor for a moment before meeting my eyes with her own haunted looking pair.

"I couldn't sleep. Every time I close my eyes I see that mansion; I see all that blood. I see…" She faltered and looked away again.

"You wanna talk about it?" She shook her head no and took a deep, shaking breath before bringing her eyes back to my own once more.

"Nuh-uh. I just need to take my mind off it for a while. I haven't exactly had much of a chance to distract myself from this mess especially considering I've spent the day cleaning up after it." Looking at Becca I could see the dark circles under her blood shot eyes. She definitely needed to sleep but I guess that wasn't going to happen for a while at least.

"Okay, what do you want to talk about?"

-- -- --

Rebecca ended up hanging around (and talking about just about anything and everything that came into her head) with me for the rest of my shift. She also stuck with me as I hit the mess hall and the women's locker room before heading back to our quarters. It's not like I minded though: she was one of my best friends in the organization and right now what she needed more than anything was a friend. This whole massacre business had left her scared and she was more than a little worried about what the target behind this mess was going to try and pull next. Heck, I was scared and all I had seen were the photos, and there is a big difference between looking at a couple pictures and seeing something with your own eyes.

Talk more or less ceased once we finally reached our room (where my luggage had already been placed) as we were both utterly exhausted and it was only a matter of minutes before we both passed out after our heads hit our pillows. The last thing that can remember before sleep took me was Rebecca saying "I feel safer, with you here." I thank that statement for keeping my dreams free of nightmares. Just that one little phrase coming from a dear friend who knew _exactly_ what I was and what had happened to me (very few of those who knew what I was, also knew of my past) and yet felt safer _because_ ofmy presence. If I could only be assured that the knowledge of what I am wouldn't change how my men felt about me.

-- -- --

'_beep beep beep beep __**BANG**__ beep beep beep _**CRASH**_' _and silence. I sluggishly rubbed the sleep from my eyes and yawned before looking at the remains of my alarm-clock. In my highly dangerous pre-conscious state I had slammed my fist down upon my alarm-clock then flung it across the room to collide with the wall when hitting it failed to shut the accursed thing up. _–Sigh, I lose more alarm-clocks that way- _I turned away from pile of shrapnel to the empty bed across from my own. _–Rebecca must already be up for her shift-_. Just then the door crashed open.

"GOOD MORNING KEAIRA SHAW!!" Oh, my overly cheerful captain had come to help me greet the day. _ –Now where did I put that gun?- _My handgun wasn't where I had left it leaving me to suspect that Rebecca had moved it out of reach before she left; so, with no gun and my alarm-clock in pieces I grabbed the closest thing to hand which happened to be one of my big combat boots.

"WAIT SHAW! HOLD YOUR FIRE! HOLD YOUR FIRE!!" I didn't lower the boot but I didn't throw it either.

"State your purpose."

"I have coffee Keaira. I have coffee. Just don't throw the boot." Part of me found it highly amusing that my captain was so scared of me when I was armed with nothing more than a boot; however, considering the time it was a very small part of me that was amused.  
"Show me the coffee first." He slowly brought one hand from behind his back, and there in his grasp was a steaming mug. I lowered the boot and Ackard slowly approached my bed, ready to bolt if I so much as twitched the hand holding the boot.

"Give it here." He cautiously handed over the mug and I took a sip of its contents. "Now, why are you here? More than that why are you here and exceedingly cheerful? Don't you know what time it is? I would have thought that by now you would have learned not to disturb me in the morning, much less disturb me in such a boisterous fashion, even when you had the foresight to bring coffee." Nervous laughter followed in response to this statement which was steeped with unspoken threats.

"Sorry…..we just need you to be awake and alert. We've had report of a werewolf attack and a necromancer making trouble, so we're down to two units on base until the sixth and thirteenth get back in." I was one-hundred-percent awake now.

"Two separate sites? Could this have anything to do with our target?"

"Not likely. Neither report mentioned anything about vampires or ghouls so there is next to no chance that this has anything to do with our primary target; it's just a couple of routine calls. Besides, last time I checked vampires, necromancers and werewolves don't get on so well. Dunno why. Anyway, pull yourself together and I'll see you in the mess." I nodded and he left, closing the door behind him.

I knew that Ackard was probably right especially given the way that vampires very rarely _willingly_ interacted (and have never co-operated) with the two species causing problems tonight. For one thing a lone werewolf is unpredictable and uncontrollable, and apack of werewolves will only answer to the pack's Alpha who is generally unpredictable and uncontrollable. This is something that generally pisses vampires off as vampires (master vampires in particular) have a tendency to be control freaks. The same goes for necromancers, which is one of the primary reasons why I think that vampires and necromancers don't work together: the constant power struggles that would ensue in any attempted alliance would severely piss off both sides.

I sighed and ran a hand over my face. Despite what I knew to be fact, I could not throw off this niggling feeling in the back of my mind that something was off. I told myself it was just paranoia and finished my coffee before grabbing my toiletries and a clean uniform then heading to the women's locker room.

-- -- --

"Ah, so she lives. I was beginning to think that you'd gone back to sleep." I grunted at my captain and sat down with a tray full of food. I then grumbled a 'morning' to Rebecca sitting across from me.

"Morning? It's 1700 hours." Rebecca laughed. "By the way, was there any particular reason I found a very smashed alarm-clock when I went into our room?"

"It wouldn't shut up." My reply was little more than a growl, for it takes more than one cup of coffee and a shower to make _me_ civil. My companions chuckled, both long used to the anti-social temperament I just about always displayed in, what I described as, the morning.

"I'm just glad she threw the clock _before_ I came to get her up. The last thing I need is another Lieutenant Shaw induced concussion." I glared at him over the rim of my coffee mug as Rebecca snorted.

"You still would have received a concussion, smashed alarm-clock or no, had you arrived empty handed." Rebecca laughed harder and Ackard gave me an only half-mock frightened glance.

After finishing my breakfast and third cup of coffee, I was a lot more alert and slightly less of a bear just coming out of hibernation. It was at this point that I was able to do a little mental arithmetic and realize that we only had three out of the four top officers left on base.

"Where's Jackson?"

"He's over in the central hub. Said he'd rather be bored out of his skull than risk his life trying to drag some conversation out of you."

"Hah, hah." Note the heavy sarcasm. I may have been slightly less of an ill tempered bear, but I was still an irritable bear. An irritable _grizzly_ bear.

I took another sip of coffee and a closer look at Rebecca and Ackard as they continued their conversation. They were both tired (physically _and_ mentally) and definitely stressed, and while they hid it well, I could see it in the shadows beneath their eyes and the way the corners of their mouths pulled down ever so slightly. There was no doubt about it that our situation was more than a little stressful, and more than a lot terrifying, and yet neither Ackard nor Rebecca (nor anyone else that I could see for that matter) was letting it interfere with his or her daily life. Rebecca, even though she was struggling to put it all aside and not let it control her last night, seemed steady and completely in control of her emotions and reactions. It was this control, shared by all those I could see around me, that marked her as true a soldier of ADAH: she didn't let the fear stop her from carrying on, or from pulling the trigger.

After my fourth cup of coffee I could finally be considered a human being, and not a bear, so I allowed myself a small smile as Ackard stood and stretched in and overly dramatic fashion (how on earth anyone could achieve being overly dramatic as they stretched is beyond me) before declaring that he could no longer stand being in the presence of such disrespectful lieutenants and so he was off to find company who would respect him for his office. Rebecca and I replied that the only ones he would find to respect him would be the little kiss-asses looking for a promotion.

"They may be little kiss-asses but at least they give me the respect my rank demands." which only made us snigger and roll our eyes at his dramatics and ranting. And it wasn't that I didn't respect him; it was just that I didn't feel the need to show my respect 24/7.

Ackard finally stopped ranting and produced a weary smile. "As much as I loathe that room, I guess I should go give that overgrown farm boy a breather. I'll see you insubordinate lieutenants later, and don't go back to bed Shaw." I pulled a face at him as he sauntered off and Rebecca chuckled. I shot Rebecca a look before hauling myself to my feet and depositing my coffee cup with the rest of the dirty dishes.

"Well what do you want to do now?" Rebecca looked thoughtful for a moment before her eyes lit up with an idea.

"Why don't we hit the pool table?" I grinned and nodded while once again silently thanking the nice people who were responsible for providing a well equipped rec-room to prevent our personnel from going off the deep-end in boredom.

"I'm gonna beat you this time Shaw." I laughed

"I'm sure you will Garcia. Just like every other time you've played me in your dreams." Rebecca stuck her tongue out and I started laughing again and I continued laughing as we made our way down the corridor (much to Rebecca's displeasure). I only stopped laughing when the lights suddenly went out and we were immersed in an inky blackness.

"Shit!" The main lights didn't come back on but the dimmer, red emergency lights did.

"The generator must be down but why hasn't the backup generator come on? Why are we on emergency power?" Rebecca's confusion lasted only a moment as I drew my side arm, and then she cursed silently.

"I knew something was wrong." I sighed as the alarm went off and the PA started blaring.

"ATTENTION! THIS IS CAPTAIN JACKSON! WE HAVE A SECURITY BREECH! THIS IS NOT A DRILL! ALL PERSONNEL TO EMERGENCY STATIONS! I REPEAT: THIS IS NOT A DRILL! ALL PERSONNEL TO EMERGENCY STATIONS NOW!" Rebecca drew her side arm and turned to me.

"We need to get to the hub."

"No! What need to do is arm ourselves with more than a couple of handguns." Rebecca looked ready to argue, worry for her captain obvious in her eyes. "Look Rebecca, you won't be able to help anyone once you run out of bullets and there is only so much I can do with my knives once I'm out. If we aren't a help we are a hindrance and if we are a hindrance we'll get somebody killed." She took a deep breath and relented with a nod.

"Let's hit the armory by the women's locker room: it's the closest one." I nodded and we started running to our chosen destination with our side arms at the ready.

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Thank you for reading folks. Please review as it makes me smile.


	5. Disaster

Sorry it took me so long to update. Writers block. I have a much clearer plan of what I'm going to do for the next chapter so it should take less time than this one did. Sorry again and as always please review after you read.

_-indicates Keaira's thoughts-_

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the members of Hellsing. Only Keaira and her crew are the products of my imagination.

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**Chapter Five-Disaster**

My mind was racing faster than my feet as Rebecca and I both legged it to the nearest armory. I was already armed with a pair of Beretta M9's strapped to my thighs as well as a small collection of silver knives, but I knew that would not be nearly enough to take on our intruders particularly if they had any connection to our primary target. I cursed myself for not preparing anything from my 'special bag of tricks' but didn't dwell on it for long as my mind had already found its way into the armory and was taking inventory: I would need at least one M16 Assault rifle and a whole mess of ammo; some grenades and perhaps a micro-UZI as well if there were any. I would have groaned had we not been running for all we were worth. _–Why did I not bring my mini-arsenal again? Oh yeah, with the limited space in the cargo holds I was instructed to pack light. (Sigh) I would have thought that all the extra personnel being stationed here would have been an argument _for_ me to bring my own guns but no; my dear Captain told me, in no uncertain terms, that most of what I would need would be provided on site. At least with my toys I know _exactly_ what is available and where it is unlike the armories here. - _ My rant was cut off as we _finally _reached our destination and unlocked the doors.

Once inside my first actions were to throw off my jacket and strap on a Kevlar vest as Rebecca did the same; I then reached for a radio and earpiece which I quickly slipped into place and set to my designated frequency.

"Control, this is Lieutenant Shaw. Please respond." Static was all I heard for a few heart pounding seconds (which seemed to last for an eternity) before Jackson's booming voice came in.

"Shaw! Thank God you're okay! What's your position?" Jackson questioned, shifting from concerned friend to professional soldier in the time it took him to take a breath.

"Third Armory. Garcia's with me. We're just gearing up now." All this was said while arming myself with at least a half-dozen extra clips for my M9s; a loaded M16 assault rifle and extra clips; and several hand grenades clipped to my belt and vest. Rebecca was similarly outfitted but had grabbed a light machinegun (couldn't place the model) instead of a M16.

"Good. Send Rebecca to sector three and have her meet up with Squad 11-a" (that's squad 'a' of unit eleven) "You go to sector two and rendezvous with Squad 6-c. Ackard is already in sector five."

"Roger that. What's the intruder's status?"

"There's been no sign since they took out the generators; however, they managed to take out the patrols and disable the outside security cameras at the same time as the generators. Also, several squads are reporting missing men; however, it has only been a few minutes since the alarm sounded so they're most likely gearing up the same as you and Garcia." I nodded my head, momentarily forgetting that he couldn't see it, before updating Rebecca on the situation and our orders.

"Is there anything else sir?"

"No but tell my lieutenant to hurry up and sort out her goddamned radio. For fuck's sake, this is an emergency situation and she's probably forgotten about the friggen thing. " I suppressed a snicker and glanced at Rebecca out of the corner of my eye.

"Yes Captain, will do. Over and out." I cut the connection and turned to fully face Rebecca.

"Have you sorted out your com link yet?" She shook her head while adjusting the carrying strap of her machine gun.

"Well get a move on. Your dear captain is getting all upset not being able to talk to you. I think he's even going to cry." Rebecca glared and muttered something mildly unpleasant under her breath but reached for a radio and earpiece and slipped them into place all the same. While she finished kitting herself out, I turned my attention to the door and trained one of my M9s on it, just in case.

"I'm ready Keaira." I nodded and reached a hand towards the door handle. "Wait Keaira, aren't you forgetting your coat?"

"No, it would just get in the way, and it's not like I'm going to be standing around long enough to get cold." She shrugged and motioned for me to continue. I started to open the door only to stop, yet again, when I suddenly found myself enveloped in a tight hug from behind.

"You better be careful Keaira Shaw. If you get yourself hurt I'll come after you and kill you myself, got it?" I blinked in surprise before turning around and returning her embrace.

"The same goes for you Becca; the same goes for you." She pulled away and gave a little cough to clear her throat; a sheepish grin on her face. My own smile was a little sad and I'm not sure that it quite reached my eyes.

"What brought that on?" Rebecca just shook her head.

"It's nothing, let's go." I frowned but nodded anyway and followed her out the door; in the corridor we each took a different direction in order to reach our assigned sectors.

-- -- --

"Hold your ground and for _fuck's sake_ don't look too hard at their faces!" This was the third wave of ghouls that had attacked my squad since the alarm sounded. After the first two waves it had become the general consensus that this was the work of our primary target; fortunately however, the battles my squad had engaged in so far had not been overly difficult in terms of actual fighting (we had seen no vampires and the numbers of ghouls in each onslaught had been easily manageable). No, the challenge came in taking down those puppets wearing familiar faces: while many of the ghouls were nothing more than rotting strangers, far too many of the corpses bore ADAH's seal on their uniforms.

I turned to the right to see one of the newer recruits hesitating to shoot an advancing ghoul which was wearing an ADAH uniform, and was almost on top of him. I aimed one of my Berettas and pulled the trigger, blowing the ghoul's head apart; I then grabbed the man by the collar.

"Why did you hesitate?" He swallowed.

"It was Eric; we were recruited from the same unit in the army. He was…" I cut him off.

"That's right private, he _was!_ Your friend was dead long before I shot him. He was dead and trapped in a rotting corpse; _all_ of these people are dead and trapped in rotting corpses. They have no free will, no memory and no compassion; all they have left is the instinct to feed. There is no going back for them; the only thing left that we can do for them is release them from their torment, and the _only_ way to do that is to _pull the trigger!"_ I released my hold on his jacket and spun him around to face the ghouls. "Now pick up that gun and shoot!" I saw him start to hesitate again so I lowered my voice and used a gentler tone. "Eric didn't ask to be a ghoul any more than they did. Pull the trigger; save them." I could see the fresh resolve form in his gaze as he lifted his rifle and took aim. Once he started taking down ghoul after rotting ghoul I turned away and took up position in the back of my squad so I could watch the battle, without being underfoot, as the last ghouls fell.

"Lt. Shaw, respond." The voice from my earpiece came so suddenly, and without warning, that it almost made me jump.

"Lt. Shaw responding."

"This is Corporal McKenzie. What is your status?" The voice spoke again and I guessed that the corporal was female.

"Currently unengaged but have eliminated several small waves of ghouls. No casualties to report."

"Understood." I heard some yelling and cursing in the background before the good corporal spoke to me again.

"We've just lost the remaining cameras and squad 11-a needs back-up. Take your squad and head to sector three. Squad 11-e has been alerted as well and is on route. Be prepared for heavy enemy fire from both ghouls and vampires." _–So it would seem that the vampires have finally decided to make an appearance, hmm?-_

"Understood, we will comply. Over and out."

I turned to my squad and apprised them of the new situation before barking orders to grab the equipment (primarily the large machine gun and its ammo) and get their 'lazy asses moving'. As sector three was on the other side of the compound (don't ask me why sectors two and three are so far apart: I wasn't involved with planning) I decided to cut through the main building to save time. It wasn't until after we were inside that I remembered: Rebecca was assigned to squad 11-a. _–Shit Rebecca! You better stay alive until I get there, idiot.- _

Our heavy combat boots pounded the floor as we ran down one of the many corridors of the main building; it was only coincidence that this was the same corridor Rebecca and I had been making our way down when the alarm sounded. As we passed the rec-room doors a dark puddle caught my eye making me stop dead in my tracks.

"Lieutenant?" I ignored the questioning call of one of my men as I crouched down to examine the strange liquid. It wasn't until I got closer that I noticed the coppery odor which alerted me to the liquid's identity: blood; blood seeping from beneath the rec-room door. I stood abruptly, startling my men who had stopped after noticing my earlier actions, and flung open the door before me.

The rec-room looked like a scene from a bad slasher flick. Bathed in the red glow of the emergency lights, the mutilated remains of ADAH personnel almost seemed to be artfully arranged. One man was hanging upside down from the lamp over the pool table with his intestines dangling from a gaping belly wound. Three feet in front of me a woman lay posed in such a way that you could almost take her to be merely sleeping; that is if you could ignore the knife protruding from her skull and her death glazed stare. I peeked around the door to find the source of the blood which had initially drawn my attention: one former Corporal Jefferies, sans arms and legs.

I could feel the bile rising in the back of my throat as I fought to suppress my gag reflex; judging from the sounds behind me someone was suffering the same reflex only wasn't as successful in fighting it, this knowledge barely registered in my shocked mind. It wasn't until the utterance of "Mary mother of God" came from behind me that I was able to shake myself from my horrified reverie and bring a hand to my radio.

"Control? This is Lt. Shaw, please respond." A moment of static followed and then a voice.

"This is Corporal McKenzie. Have you reached sector three?" I swallowed before replying.

"No, not yet; however," I paused and took a deep a breath which turned out to be a mistake as I inhaled a lungful of the rooms stench causing my gag reflex to kick up again. The sound of me coughing and choking apparently alarmed the corporal as she inquired to my wellbeing.

"Lieutenant, are you all right?"

"Not really. I've found our missing personnel."

"What? Where?"

"What's left of them is in the rec-room." I forced myself to examine the scene a little more closely. "I can't tell if it was done by vampires or ghouls (might have been both) but whatever happened here it happened a while ago. Maybe around the time the alarm sounded." There was a moment of silence before McKenzie was able to respond and when she did her voice seemed almost devoid of emotion with only the barest hint of shock.

"Let me make sure I have this straight. You found our missing personnel in the rec-room….and they are dead? Possibly from the time the alarm sounded?" the tone of McKenzie's voice in the last part almost seemed to be begging me to say that I was joking and I wished that I could tell her I was.

"Yes, that is correct. Any orders concerning this new development?"

"Could you hold for a moment please?" The only sounds I could hear over my earpiece were muffled so I let my thoughts drift again to the little box which lay, safe and undisturbed, in my room. _–Fuck! How I wish I had that little box with me now. How am I supposed to pull victory out of a hat if the hat is locked up? Damn it! - _I was abruptly brought back to reality when Capt. Jackson's voice came over the radio.

"Is what the corporal told me accurate?"

"If you're referring to the fact that I just found the mutilated remains of our missing personnel in the rec-room then yes. New orders?" There was a brief moment of muffled cursing on Jackson's end before he finally replied.

"No, just get over to section three and help Garcia with those damn vampires. We don't have the time to mull over what this could mean; we've got enough problems as it is and they all have teeth."

"Brief question sir, have you had any word from units three and six?"

"Yes. Both problems on their ends were real enough and have been resolved but it will still be hours before they get back in to help us so don't; hold your breath for reinforcements. Now get your asses to sector three, pronto."  
"Roger that. Shaw out." I looked up to find myself the center of attention.

"Our last orders still stand: we're going to sector three." One or two faces held apprehension, and some held the desire to argue but, to their credit, it didn't last long and they followed me as I took the lead. My boots once again pounded the floor as I ran for all I was worth towards sector three, and Rebecca.

-- -- --

The sound of gun fire became increasingly obvious as we approached the other side of the main building; even with the heavy door at the end and the thick walls, the sounds of battle almost echoed as we traversed the final corridors between us and sector three. I kept the pace up until we reached that last corridor where upon I brought our speed down to that of a moderately brisk walk: sacrificing speed for stealth and caution. I used the extra time provided by our new pace to check over the M9 I already held in one hand while drawing my second M9 with the other.

We reached the exit and I signaled most of my subordinates to take up position to either side of door while the remaining pair assessed the situation beyond it. One of the 'scouting' pair slowly and carefully opened the door a sliver to allow the other to slip a useful little camera outside. I watched them fiddle around with the surveillance equipment for a few moments and sent a silent thanks to whatever bright spark came up with the device before walking around to check out the camera's monitor.

What I saw made me swear viciously while simultaneously beseeching whatever powers-that-be for help: Rebecca's squad was pinned down with a massive hoard of ghouls on one side and a small handful of heavily armed vampires on the other. I couldn't see any sign of squad 11-e, and from what I could see of squad 11-a, they couldn't hold out much longer; they had already lost three and even from this distance I could see the strain on their faces. I took stock of our position in relation to the embattled squad and guessed that we were about one-hundred feet away, and the ghouls were marching straight past us. We could definitely use our location to our advantage; this revelation cut off my silent cursing and caused a plan to start taking shape in the space behind my eyes.

I placed a hand on the camera operator's shoulder and gave a short nod when he turned to look up at me; the corporal returned my nod and silently withdrew his camera as his partner closed the door behind it. With the door closed the chance of being noticed by the ghouls was cut drastically allowing me to quickly and vocally explain, and my boys to prepare to implement, the plan of attack. The first part was simple enough: I and two others took a grenade a piece and pulled the pins before throwing them out the hastily opened door and into the hoard of ghouls. The door was shut immediately afterwards and we braced ourselves, and the door, as we waited for the explosions. The second part of my plan was as simple as the first. After the grenades detonated we burst out into the open and continued what the grenades had started: clearing a path through the ghouls to our trapped comrades. About halfway to our destination I raised my head and my eyes met with Rebecca's; she smiled at me and stuck out her tongue before turning her attention back to the attacking vampires while I turned to blow away the ghoul trying to bite my arm. After what seemed to be a lifetime (in reality it was just a few minutes) after our silent exchange I found myself at Rebecca's side and being pulled into a one-armed hug.

"You're late."

"Sorry, I got sleepy and had to stop for a cup of coffee." She burst out laughing in both amusement and relief which I quickly joined her in. Rebecca started to say something, a grin lingering on her face, but whatever words she had for me died on her lips as she froze. Red blossomed on her temple and she slowly started to fall, taking my world with her.

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Thanks for reading and please review. If there's something that you like, love, hate or don't understand let me know. And keep in mind that the more reviews I get the more inspired I become to write so don't hold back, share _all_ your thoughts on my story


	6. Calling on the Darkness

Sorry, sorry, sorry. I didn't mean to leave it so long between updates. It was a combination of writers block, summer activities and the return to college. Once again, I'm sorry. Anyway, as well as writting this chapter I've gone over a lot of the other chapters and done some editing and changed a couple details. If you don't want to bother going over the past chapters the changes I've made shouldn't throw you off too much, soooo don't worry about it.

I also want to take the opportunity to thank all you wonderful people who have been reviewing my story. You rock my world.

**Disclaimer-**I do not own nor do I claim yo own Hellsing or any of it's characters. Keaira, however, is another matter entirely. I made her, I own her, and she's probably cursing my name for all the things I have put her through so far and will probably continue to put her through.

_-indicates Keaira's thoughts-

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_

**Chapter Six-Calling on the Darkness**

Time seemed to slow down to a crawl as Rebecca fell down to the cruel ground. Every sight, every sound was slowed and enhanced; it allowed me to experience everything to the fullest and engrave this moment into my mind for all eternity. I wanted to run to her side but my body wouldn't respond; all I could do was stare at her as the spark of her life flickered and died.

I forced myself to tear my eyes away from her still form and I cast around desperately looking for anything or anyone that could help. No one else had seen her fall or noticed her absence: they were too caught up in the battle. I turned back to Rebecca and started to make for her when movement in the corner of eye drew my attention like a magnet, and there _he_ was. There before me, still wearing _our _colours, was Captain Riddle. He was staring at Rebecca as he made his way towards us then he lifted his head, looked me in the eye and grinned. My jaw dropped and my mind went blank; his teeth were like a shark's: every last one jagged and sharp. Another figure stepped from behind Riddle, his sunglasses-covered eyes on Rebecca as her raised a still smoking gun. Rice, it was Lieutenant Rice. As I watched, a smirk spread across Rice's lips and he lifted his face and looked at me.

My mind kicked into overdrive as it took in everything. Both Riddle and Rice still wore their uniforms, and they were pristine: not a speck of blood or tear was visible to my eyes. And Riddle's eyes, his eyes glowed with an unnatural light, filled with a hunger I could not understand.

_-Traitors! - _This single word emerged from the chaos of my mind and brought everything into sharp focus. _–They betrayed us, they broke their oaths. They killed Rebecca; they killed my friend. No. They killed my _sister_. They! Must! Pay!-_

Hot rage coursed through my veins as these thoughts passed through my mind, and with the rage came a few tendrils of something else, something familiar. I reached out and touched them with my mind in an attempt to identify them; a task I found difficult to accomplish with the rage clouding my thoughts. Upon contact the tendrils began to grow, becoming thick vines spreading throughout my body, just beneath my skin. A spark of recognition cleared my mind for a moment as I found a name for the vines: power; power that has been passed down through generations, _my _power. The hot rage which had filled my veins and clouded my thoughts began to cool until it became as cold as ice and wickedly calculating. Assessing our situation I knew that we would lose this battle and units three and six would fall as we would when they arrived: the enemy was too numerous and they had planned well. I knew what I had to do to prevent this outcome, even though it would go against everything I was taught as a child.

-- -- --

My power was passed down to me through my Mother's bloodline. The strength of the power varies from person to person but most of those who inherit the blood posses at least some spark of the gift. My own mother, despite having been blessed with a great aptitude for it and had been taught its ways, wanted nothing to do with our family's legacy: she wanted to be normal, like my father. I guess the lack of potential in my sibling reflected my mother's wish for normalcy: out of her four children I was the only one to have more than a flickering spark and even so I wouldn't have been trained had it not been for a set of crafty grandparents.

Every time my Mother's parents would visit, my Grandpa (who wasn't of the bloodline) would distract and occupy my parents while my Grandma would set about teaching me about our heritage, our ancestry and how to use my gift as well as the rules, set down by those aforementioned ancestors, which came with it:

Never cast or weave without proper preparation lest the power run rampant and turn back upon you.

Take the path which will bring the least harm to everyone and everything that is around you.

Do not openly display your abilities to those around you lest they seek to use or harm you.

Do not directly meddle with the weather or other great forces of nature for they are unstable and cannot truly be controlled.

These were but a few of the rules I was taught but the chief rule was to _never_ draw upon the dark forces that exist in our world "for you yourself will inevitably fall into the darkness and be consumed by the things that dwell there, until you are one of them."

-- -- --

_-I'm sorry Grandma; I can't listen to you this time for there is no other way and they must pay the price of betraying us-_

I closed my eyes -the last thing I saw being Lt. Rice turning to aim his gun at me- lowered my head and took hold of that power and started shaping it to my purpose. Storm clouds rolled in at an unnatural speed, the lightning flashing within them accompanied by crashing thunder almost loud enough to shake the ground beneath our feet.

The fighters behind me were too involved with their own problems to pay much mind to the brewing storm. That is, until lightning struck the ranks of ghouls, twice. The eyes of all but the ghouls were diverted for a moment to the blackened sky before returning to the conflict.

"Good bye my dear Keaira, I am truly sorry for this. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive us." The sound of former Capt. Riddle's voice, laden with false sincerity and regret, filled me with disgust.

"What a coincidence, _Captain. _I was about to ask you the same thing." Lightning struck the ground not ten feet behind Riddle and Rice causing them to start and glance back over their shoulders at the charred and smoking earth.

"You shouldn't have betrayed us, Captain, you too lieutenant." They turned back to me and I started to raise my head. "Gentlemen, it is time to pay the piper." My eyes opened then, and a jolt ran through the traitors. I couldn't blame them for the eyes staring back at me from my reflection in Rice's sunglasses were as yellow as a wolf's. I gave a predatory smile, tipped my head back (lifting my face up towards the sky), raised my arms and called upon the darkness.

"Orthos, brother of Cerberus, son of Echidna, a daughter of the Morrigan calls you!" The power began to enter my voice and it echoed above the sounds of gunfire and the battle cries that surrounded me. "You, who dwell now within the darkest pits of Hell, rise and devour the oath-breakers before me!" The ground began to quake. "Come to me Orthos, come to me…."

"WHAT IN HELL'S NAME ARE YOU?" I looked down to find the former lieutenant frozen with fear and the former Captain displaying and interesting combination of pure rage and sheer terror.

"The wicked witch of the west." I answered and his eyes grew wide. I raised my gaze back to the sky above and prepared to return to my work.

"I call upon you Orth.."

"SHOOT HER! SHOOT THE BITCH RICE! SHOOT HER GODDAMN YOU!" My arm snapped towards the source of the interruption.

"_Be silent!" _I hissed at him, my voice infused with power. "It isn't polite to interrupt." Riddle's eyes bugged out of his skull and his mouth began to open and close, like fish's out of water, as he desperately tried to make any kind of sound come from his now useless vocal cords. I looked at Rice, who stood immobile with his gun limp in his grasp, and raised an eyebrow. The coward took off running.

"Now, where was I?" The lightning flashed again and the thunder rolled. "I call upon you Orthos. Heed your master. Walk this Earth and do my bidding. Devour my enemies and send them to the depths of Hell. Hear me Orthos." With my right hand I quickly grabbed one of my silver knives and drew the blade across the skin of my left hand, the pain making me flinch slightly. Red blood welled up following the path of the knife before spilling down my arm. I thrust that hand up into the air. "By the Faal blood which flows through my veins, I SUMMON YOU."

The ground before me began to buckle and crack.

"I hope you're good with your Gods, _Captain Riddle,_ for we're about to send you down to meet them." The ground burst open and a colossal hound clawed its way from the Earth. Liquid fire spilled from both of its mouths which were lined with razor sharp teeth. It flung its heads back and howled then locked both sets of eyes on those of the captain. "Captain Riddle, meet Orthos. Orthos, Meet the appetizer." The right head of the hellhound lunged forward and grabbed a silently-screaming Riddle by the legs. The other head then grabbed Riddle's top half and between them they ripped Riddle in two before consuming him. Finished with his snack, Orthos turned and looked at me with doggy grins on both faces.

"Well done Orthos, but you are far from finished here. Help me destroy these ghouls and then hunt down their masters. Let not one rat escape your jaws this night;especially that cowardly worm _Marcus Rice."_ Orthos threw back his heads and howled again as I stretched a hand towards the still raging storm clouds and the pointed the other hand at the ghouls. Lightning struck at my command, reducing the ghouls in its path to lumps of charred and burning flesh. I repeated this several times, while Orthos ate his fill, until there were sufficient flames for my next act: torching the remaining ghouls and the two vampires who hadn't had the sense to flee when Orthos made his appearance. Watching as the flames I directed consumed their targets I found myself overcome with a wave of pleasure. The feel of the pure power washing through me was intoxicating. I felt as if I could do anything and everything. I wanted to track down each and every vampire here and deal with them personally. I wanted to watch their faces as they filled with fear as I toyed with them. I wanted to experience more of this power. I shut my still glowing yellow eyes and let my head fall back as a smile of pleasure spread across my face.

"I am _witch."_ How I'd feared using this power; how I'd feared admitting what I was to the world. I was afraid of persecution and hatred. I was afraid that my mother was right and there was no place for witches in this world, that the regular humans could only see us as monsters. _–How wrong she was. We witches could rule this world if we so chose. We are the superior species. We are the ones who should be feared rather than feel fear ourselves.- _

I lowered my head and opened my eyes, the smile still lingering on my lips. The sound of someone's shuffling feet alerted me to the fact that my squad and another squad were still here. I turned to face them, a smile still present, ready to share my victory. I wasn't prepared for what I saw when I turned around though: fear. I opened my mouth to tell them that it was over and they could relax, but then it hit me. They weren't afraid of the ghouls and vampires; they were afraid of _me._ This realization wiped away all traces of power induced pleasure from my body and I was brought sharply down to Earth. I tried to imagine what they were seeing (glowing yellow eyes, a great two-headed, red-eyed hellhound following my every command, fire and lightning bending to my will) and realized that they probably saw a monster. The fears, worries and pain I had disregarded in my power-drunken state came back with a vengeance.

I lowered my eyes to look at the ground only to find myself staring at Rebecca. I cleared my suddenly tight throat and called out to Orthos.

"Orthos, I have already given you my orders; carry them out and return to the underworld once your task is done. Go." Behind me Orthos gave a grunt (whether in assent or derision I do not know) and bounded off, supposedly to follow my orders. Tears began to prick my eyes and my shoulders shook with suppressed sobs as I stood there staring at what used to be my friend. I dimly noted the intervals between the lightning flashes getting longer and the thunder getting quieter. There was one last flash of lightning and crash of thunder then the rain began to fall and I fell to my knees in the newly forming mud. I reached out and pulled Rebecca's body onto my lap, cradling her against my chest and rocking back and forth. My tears ran freely now, for all my attempts to hold them back, and it was all I could do not to scream in grief, pain and the lingering vestiges of my rage.

I don't know how long I sat there holding Rebecca, it could have been hours for all I know, but it was just as one or two of the soldiers were beginning to build up enough courage to approach me that I remembered the other reason why witches generally didn't use such power, without the proper preparations, besides the possibility of losing control: backlash. The power I had used was beginning to dissipate and with my mental shields down as they were there was nothing to buffer me against the colossal wave of energy that was about to come down upon me in full force. It hit me, and I flung my head back and screamed just as one of the braver soldiers had reached me. He jumped back and his hands twitched towards his weapons.

The agony that came with the backlash was more than I could bear, particularly when combined with the mental anguish I was already suffering, and so I began to lose consciousness. The last thing I saw before I was lost to this world entirely was the arrival of my Captain and his squad.

"You're late, Captain." And I was out.

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Thank you for reading another chapter, sorry if it's a bit short. Now please, please, _please_ review. Reviews make me smile and inspire me to continue writting.


	7. A Loved One's Plea

Here's the next chapter. Sorry it took a little longer than intended, stuff's been happening. College, to put things simply. I've been preparing for a calculus exam and a physics exam and I haven't had as much time as I would like to work on this story.

Note: so you aren't confused later a broad North Yorkshire accent sounds a lot like the Scottish accent you hear in the movie "The Water Horse".

Please remember to review after reading, even if it's only to tell me what you _don't_ like about this chapter. I shall take any suggestions, advice or criticism you may have for me under consideration.

**Disclaimer: **I hold no ownership rights over Hellsing or it's characters.

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**Chapter Seven-A Loved One's Plea  
**

Awareness slowly intruded upon the utter oblivion my mind was trapped in. A bright light was shining in my eyes and someone was humming in the background. The voice was… very… familiar, but I had to be imagining things seeing as _that_ person had been dead for ten years. I opened my eyes to find myself sitting in a wicker chair sitting on the wraparound porch of a house I knew all too well: my grandparent's home; a place I hadn't set foot in since that bloody awful incident which happened about eight years ago. I looked down to see I was wearing a pretty, floaty, strappy, _pink_ summer dress. It was something I would _never _wear voluntarily (and in a colour I hated despite everyone telling me I looked good in it), especially with all the scars that covered my forearms…. scars that were nowhere to be seen. I was beyond confused as to what was going on and I tried to remember the last thing that happened to me before waking up here and found myself drawing a blank. _–Well _that_ isn't helpful. - _ I slowly stood and took careful stock of what was around me. It was definitely my Mother's parent's house, but something didn't quite seem right about it. Looking out into the garden, located below the porch I was standing on, I realized that I couldn't see any boundaries to it: the edges were blurred and indistinct, almost as if wrapped in a fog bank.

I was so thoroughly lost in thought as I tried to figure out what was going on that I didn't hear the hummer walk right up behind me.

"So good to see you're awake, petal." I whirled around to find myself staring at, what seemed to be, the diminutive form of my Grandmother. Unfortunately, my reaction was less than dignified; unless you define dignified as standing there with a gob smacked look on my face, complete with gaping mouth, and shaking a pointed finger in the woman's general direction. I recovered as quickly as I could, replacing my calm exterior, only to have a stupid questions come out of my mouth. "Grandma!? Aren't you supposed to be _dead_!?" Yeah, _real_ smooth. My 'Grandmother' chuckled at me and replied in a rather matter-of-fact-tone.

"Why yes petal, I am." I blinked.

"Well, alright then. Erm… I…." My brain more or less stopped functioning at this point. Grandma chuckled again.

"It's alright, my dear. Let us sit ourselves down and have a nice cup of tea and some cake, shall we?" I nodded dumbly, being unable to do anything else, and sat back down in the chair I had woken up in while Grandma took the chair opposite me. I looked down at the wicker table between us and saw a tray laden with slices of what looked like my Grandma's cherry and almond cake and her favorite china tea service. Grandma poured two cups of tea and added milk and sugar before holding one of the cups out to me.

"Drink up my petal. You look like you need it." I gave her a searching look (trying to find any sign that she wasn't who she appeared to be, and finding none) before gingerly taking the cup. I surreptitiously sniffed the contents of my cup and then gave a cautious sip. Strong earl grey tea. I gave a contented sigh and took a slightly larger sip: earl grey had always been one of my favorites and nothing smelled or tasted off about it so I didn't see any harm in drinking it.

"Have a cake. I made your favorite." If it wasn't for the fact that my Grandma had really been this pushy when it came to feeding guests and family (myself in particular), her insistence on my eating and drinking would have made me more suspicious. I took a slice of cake and tried it. -_Cherry and almond, just like I guessed.- _

I sat there eating my cake for a couple minutes and watching the woman before me. She was just as I remembered my Grandmother to be before she died: only an inch or two over five feet with long white hair restrained in a plait down her back and bright blue eyes that just seemed to radiate peace and tranquility. Just watching those eyes caused my body to start relaxing against my will. My frazzled brain tried to make sense of what was going on; it was simply unable to comprehend how I could be sitting here in a house that I hadn't set eyes on in eight years, drinking tea with a woman who had been dead for even longer. The female in question just sat there quietly sipping her tea and looking out over the garden below us as these thoughts made their way through my head. I tried to imitate her and stay quiet until she explained in her own time, but my patience gave out and I broke the silence first.

"Grandma, not that I'm not happy to see you and all, but what is going on here? You're supposed to be dead and I'm not supposed to be here. And my arms, my arms are supposed to be covered with scars but my skin is as perfect as it was before the incident! Please, just tell me what is going on?" Grandma seemed un-phased by my outburst, almost as if she'd expected it.

"I would have thought that you'd be pleased to be rid of those marks, Petal. They weren't exactly too pleasant to look at." _–God, she's just as I remembered, right down to that strong North Yorkshire Accent. Hell this woman even uses my old nickname. No one else ever called me 'petal' but her. It must be her, but then why am I here? - _I gave a mental shake and returned to my questions.

"That's not the point. And you're trying to avoid the questions." She sighed and put down her tea.

"Do you remember what happened before you woke up here? What you were doing, what you did?"

"No I don…" I paused as the memories came back in a rush. "Oh…… oh, I see."

"Yes, 'oh'."

"I called upon the darkness." Her face became grave.

"That's right you did. And I want to know just what were you thinking? You didn't even take the proper precautions required before performing any form of magic." She didn't seem angry, just disappointed which hurt far more coming from her.

"I didn't have a choice Grandma, not if I wanted to save my unit." I tried desperately to defend my actions. Her face softened and a small smile crept onto it.

"Yes my dear, I know and you saved them."

"I couldn't save Rebecca, though." Tears began pricking my eyes as I thought of this and Grandma was by my side in an instant.

"Hush now. It is alright. She isn't in pain anymore and there is no way in this world that she could blame you: she loves you. From what I have seen, you were as a sister to her. How could she blame you?" It didn't make it any easier but it felt so good to be in her arms again. I couldn't believe how much I'd missed her.

"That isn't all Grandma. My men must think I'm a monster now. How could they not after seeing what I did? Even I would see me as a monster if I were in their shoes." Her arms tightened around me and I buried my face in her shoulder. "How can I face them? How can they ever trust me again?" Grandma stayed silent for a moment before replying

"You know Petal, you don't have to go back. Not if you don't want to." This caught my attention.

"What do mean Grandma? I'm not dead am I? Is that why I'm here with you?"

"Oh no, no, no. You're just in bit of a coma. It's only to be expected after a backlash of that magnitude". She paused again and her tone became a bit cautious. "But just because you're just in a coma doesn't mean you _have_ to wake up. You could stay here, wi' me." I drew back, out of her arms slightly and hoped she didn't mean what I though she meant.

"Wait, are you suggesting that I just stay here and forget about _everything_. What about my responsibilities? I can't just abandon ADAH. They're going to need all the help they can get to put things to rights after this disaster in New Orleans. I can't leave them all now. I…"

"Hush. You said it yourself: they probably see you as a monster now. Let us not forget the odds of them trusting you as they once did. How will you be able to help them, be of any use to them, if they won't trust you? Besides, you've done your part. You saved them all. You have earned a reprieve." She gathered me closer. "You were never meant to be a soldier anyway: you have a healer's heart, Petal. Being a soldier is against your nature. Let others hunt and kill and destroy; just you stay here with me." Sensing my hesitation she hastily continued. "If you stay you can see Rebecca again." _–Rebecca…-_ She lifted her hand and started smoothing my hair back from my face. It was so soothing and familiar a gesture that I found myself putting my head back on her shoulder. "You are safe here. No one will fear you; no one will hate you. _No one_ can hurt you, or Rebecca, while you are here." As my Grandmother kept speaking I found myself becoming increasing swayed by her words. I found myself wanting everything she promised, and all I had to do to get it all was… stay… here.

"I... want to stay Grandma, but I can't just abandon…"

"Stop it. If you stay here you can forget all about it. You can forget all the pain and sorrow. You can forget what brought you to ADAH; you can forget that Judas Priest. You can be free of your nightmares. Just relax and stay here with me. You're safe wi' me."

"But…."

"It is alright. You have done your part and have earned your peace. Let other's deal with the Master. They will be fine." _–Wait! Master!?- _I jerked back out of her arms.

"Wait, what Master!? The master vampire behind the attack? But Orthos should have devoured him….. unless he wasn't there. He sent his minions to attack the base while _he_ stayed back and watched from a safe distance." Realizing her mistake, Grandma began to panic.

"Hush. Others can and will deal with him better than you can. You shouldn't worry yourself about him: your ADAH will finish him and they don't need you to do it."

"That isn't the point. I cannot sit here and 'relax' while that bastard is out there. He may have failed in New Orleans but that won't stop him from trying this again. If he isn't stopped more innocent lives will be lost, both as he and his minions takes them directly and the ones who will be killed when there is no one left to protect them from the other monsters. I cannot just sit back and let that happen."

"There will be nothing but pain for you there if you go back."

"That doesn't matter." She grabbed my arms and shook them in front of my face.

"Look what happened to you the last time the wrong person found out that you was a witch. _Look!_" My scars were back and there was nothing to hide them. Thick paths of scar tissue wrapped around my arms from the red-hot chains that were used to bind them together. You could almost see the marks left behind by each individual link of the chain; you could certainly trace the pattern in which the chains were wrapped around my arms, when I held them side by side. "They think you to be a monster! I would be surprised if someone _doesn't_ try to do you in while you're in a coma! If you go back to them you will be feared, you will be hated and you will be lucky if all they do is put a bullet in your brain! Think about what you are doing." I stood and pulled my arms out of her grasp. My uniform now covered me in place of that horrific sundress (which must have been my Grandmother's choice).

"That doesn't matter. I am a soldier of ADAH. I may have had a healer's heart at one point, but after everything I have seen and done I cannot be anything else but a soldier now. Even if I forget, and I _cannot_ forget, this will not change. I have to go back, even if it costs me my life." Grandma had tears in her eyes now, and they were breaking my heart.

"There is more here at stake than your life, child. You have already called upon the dark once: if you go back you won't be able to do anything else but call upon it again. In the end you will be devoured and you will become a _true_ monster. You will lose your very soul. Do you understand!? If you leave now chances are that you won't _ever_ be able to come back here to me. You'll never see Rebecca again. You'll be dragged to the underworld. You'll go to _Hell!" _I could understand her terror now but it could not change what I had to do; I wouldn't be able to live with myself (figuratively speaking) if I did anything else.

I gave my Grandmother one last hug and a kiss. Her arms wrapped around me so tightly that I didn't think I would be able to break free.

"Goodbye Grandma. I will always love you. If you ever see Rebecca, tell her that I love like a sister and I always will and I……I'm sorry." I pulled back and kissed her on the cheek before pulling myself from the comfort of her warm arms, leaving me cold. The tears were pouring down her face now and she was shaking badly. A single tear ran down my own face and then I turned and walked to the door. With my hand on the door handle I looked back over my shoulder one last time. I then opened the door and walked through.

-- -- --

My eyes were filled with a blindingly bright light causing me to blink several times.  
"Keaira. _Keaira! _Can you hear me?" I turned my head in the direction of the obnoxiously loud voice which was ringing in my ears. The first thing I saw, once my eyes were free of the blinding light, was Captain Ackard. His face was drawn and grey and his eyes were worried. _–What is he doing here? Where is here for that matter?-_

"Captain? What's going on?" Ugh! My voice sounded like I'd been down with the flu for a month and my throat felt sandpaper rough and desert dry; it made me cringe to hear myself speak. The Captain on the other hand seemed to be more than a little relieved at hearing my voice.

"You have no idea how glad I am to see you awake, Keaira. You've been in a coma for two weeks. The docs didn't think you were gonna wake up at all." I blinked. It certainly didn't feel like I'd been unconscious for two weeks: for one thing I was tired to the bone. I took my eyes off Ackard as I started to take stock of how I felt: sensitive to light and sound, pounding headache, stiff body and utter exhaustion. Seeming to guess what I was doing Ackard asked me how I felt.

"Kinda hung over, actually. You sure I didn't just get drunk last night? By the way, where are we?" Ackard chuckled.

"No Keaira, you didn't get drunk and we're in a private room in the infirmary back at H.Q. Do you remember anything about what happened before you passed out?" I thought for a moment, or as best I could with my pounding head, trying to sort out my jumbled memories.

"I remember New Orleans, the vampires and then I remember seeing your very late self sauntering onto the battlefield I'd just cleaned up." There was something else as well, some niggling thought that something else happened to me after I passed out but I couldn't for the life of me remember what it was. It seemed as if there was a void in my memory banks where something important should have been. I mentally shrugged my shoulders and dismissed it thinking that I shouldn't be able to remember anything after the chaos of Orthos seeing as I was unconscious.

Ackard took on and expression of mock hurt.

"I wasn't late. _You_ were early, and so were those ghouls and vampires." He gave a little sniff and stuck out his bottom lip for a moment before letting the façade fall away. "Good to know that you haven't lost your sense of humor." He added with a small smile which held for a moment then faded; a slightly grim look took over his face.

"What's wrong?" He looked away. "Captain Jason?" He shook his head and turned back to me a smaller, sadder smile on his face than before.

"Don't worry about it Keaira. It's nothing you need to worry about at the moment. Just get some rest-you look like you need it." He stood up and clapped me on the shoulder. "I'll go let the saw bones know you're awake and come back to check on you later. Take my advice Shaw and get some sleep before the Docs come to start poking and messing with you." He turned and walked out the door, shutting it behind him.

I sighed and let my head fall back down to the pillow. I knew what was wrong. I just didn't want to think about it, not that my desire to avoid the subject could stop my mind going down that path. _–Rebecca is dead, and my secret is out. Fuck. - _ A couple of tears leaked from my eyes as I closed them and let myself go to the sweet oblivion of a dreamless sleep.

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Thank you for reading. As always please review. Tell me what you like, tell me what you hate, let me know your suggestions. I'll be eagerly awaiting anything you want to tell me.


	8. Tests and Complications

I'm back and I"m sorry for taking so long. _Please_ don't murder me. I shall endeavor to change my ways and update on a a more regular basis.

As always please review after reading. Reviews give me feedback on how I'm doing and let me know if there are things I have to change or whether I'm just confusing the heck out of everyone. Plus they give me a warm and fuzzy feeling and inspire me to write some more.

**Disclaimer:**I do not own Hellsing or it's characters. Only Keaira and the rest of ADAH's crew are the products of my imagination.

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**Chapter Eight**** - Tests and Complications**

If there was one thing that being bedridden gave you it was time to think…and the opportunity to finish overdue paperwork. Five days had passed since I had woken up from my coma and I was still stuck in the infirmary. The Docs said that they wanted to keep me here because there was still the possibility of a relapse; well… that…. and the fact that I couldn't walk five feet without assistance. Hell, I couldn't even _stand up_ for five seconds without assistance. The spell's backlash had taken an unpleasantly heavy toll on my body; it had taken me three days, after waking, before I was finally able to complete such _basic _tasks as sitting upright and feeding myself without any help. _-Heh, I only wish I could stand upright without any help, at least then I could take a shower instead of being subjected to the rather dubious pleasure of the sponge bath. *sigh* just think of it: hot water pelting my body and releasing the stress from both my body and mind.- _I shook my head of the fantasy and returned to the old paperwork situated upon the little lap-table thing resting upon my legs. _–What kind of twisted person makes an injured girl (whom is newly awoken from a _coma, _may I add) fill out _paperwork_? -_ The answer to that question was easy enough: Major Roberts. The eternal source of bureaucracy and red tape appeared at my door early this morning with an assortment of mission reports and other miscellaneous paperwork , which my Captain and I had… ah… misplaced over recent months, and informed me that as long as I was incapacitated I was to make myself useful and bring my unit's paperwork up to date. I couldn't wait until I was free from the god forsaken room to which I had been confined, for then not only would I be able to outrun and escape Roberts, but I would also be free of the doctors and nurses who, when they weren't poking and prodding me, were either gawking at me like the freak show's main attraction or watching me as if I would attack the moment their back was turned.

That was another thing I wanted to escape: the underlying edge of fear I saw in the gazes of most of the medical staff assigned to me. It would seem that news of my actions in New Orleans had spread quickly throughout the organization despite all efforts that would have taken place to keep things quiet. I won't lie; I had expected the fear I was seeing but it didn't make it any easier to deal with. This was one of the very reasons that I kept my abilities a secret in the first place. My only comforts and were the medics who didn't fear me; although, there were times I almost wished they were afraid considering how irritating they were. One of these was Dr. Holiday (a.k.a. doc Holiday) who was far too curious about the subject of witches and the fact I was one to even begin to be afraid of what I did in New Orleans. One of the others was a nurse I knew only as 'the perky one'. She was _far_ too bright and friendly, to put it nicely. To be brutally honest I suspected her to be an escaped mental patient or kindergarten teacher.

"Ke-air-a my lieutenant. Are you awake my angel?" Speaking of sources of aggravation that sing song voice could only belong to my Captain who had been equally annoying, if not more so, as the infirmary staff the past few days. I sighed and looked down at the forms I was trying to finish before putting them to the side: there was no way I was going to be able to concentrate enough to finish the blasted things with Bozo the officer dancing around me. _–Gods I wish these medics would let me have just _one_ lousy cup of coffee, medication be damned.-_

"Keaira! You look so much better this morning. If I didn't know any better I would say you were faking to get out of your duties." I raised an eyebrow and gave my Captain a very dry look.

"Really? Because the last time I checked I have been sitting here doing your overdue paperwork."

"Oh? _My_ overdue paperwork? Whatever brought on this generous and industrious gesture?"

"The Major kiss-ass brought me a pile of our unit's ...ahem…_misplaced_ paperwork this morning. He told me that as long as he had me in one place (i.e. incapacitated) I was going to do our paperwork. Your stack was under mine." Ackard raised his eyebrows.

"Ah, so you fell victim to Roberts' infamous paperwork ploy." I nodded "Don't worry Shaw. He got me the same way the last time I was stuck in the infirmary. Hell I think he's gotten most of the officers at least once. It was just your time." I snorted.

"Nice phrasing. 'It was just my time'." I rolled my eyes. "May I suggest that in future that you refrain from using such expressions when talking to people stuck in the infirmary?" He gave a sheepish grin and rubbed the back of his head. There was _one_ thing that hadn't changed after New Orleans: my Captain. I was grateful for this blessing despite how aggravating his overly energetic personality could be.

"Heheh, I guess it doesn't have the best of ideas associated with it."

"No, not really. Anyway, to what do I owe your latest visit? If you're holding more paperwork behind your back…."

"NO! Do you think that I'm stupid enough to try and pull that trick? Wait, don't answer that." I closed my mouth and attempted to put on an innocent expression. "We have to talk." _–Now there is a sentence which never precludes anything good.- _

"Does this have anything to do with my actions in New Orleans?"

"Yes and no. Yes, this has to do with New Orleans, but no not you specifically. Some complications have arisen with New Orleans."

"Complications?" I deadpanned. I really did not like where this was going.

"Yeah, you know what you told the big doggy to do?"

"Yes, I told Orthos to devour or otherwise destroy ever vampire and ghoul present on base." Ackard nodded. None of this was new to him: I'd been debriefed a couple days ago and he'd been present along with General Sanders and Colonel Davis.

Jason looked down and took a deep breath to prepare himself. He lifted his head after a couple moments and looked directly into my eyes.

"We didn't get all the vampires. One escaped; the… master escaped." _–'Let others deal with the Master.' Where did that come from? Who said that? - _"We found a pile of drained corpses on a hill overlooking the base. From the looks of things he..." _–'He sent his minions to attack the base while he stayed back and watched from a safe distance.' Where are these memories coming from? – _"Shaw? Shaw? Hey Keaira! Are you listening to me!?" My head flew up. I hadn't realized that I'd zoned out.

"Yeah I'm listening. The Master sent down the peons to do his dirty work while he stayed back and watched with the vampire equivalent of popcorn, and then he hightailed it out of there when things started to go south." Ackard gave me a rather strange look.

"Yeah… Intelligence is trying to track him down as we speak and the big brass are trying to suss out possible plans of attack for when we find the bastard."

I nodded absently and ran a hand over my face. I suddenly felt very tired. I thought that we were finished with this mess and now _this_. I raised my head to find Ackard looking at me with concern.

"Are you sure you're alright Keaira? You look tired, have you been getting enough sleep? Have the Doctors and Nurses been treating you alright?"

"Sleep is the one thing I've been getting plenty of. And the medics are all either scared of me or as annoying as hell, but it is nothing that I can't handle." Ackard looked unusually thoughtful which put me on edge.

"Have you let yourself grieve?" I blinked and looked to the side.

"No, as if I could with all these people hanging around me."

"You shouldn't hold it in for too long you know."

"Yeah, yeah. Look, is there anything else you can tell me about our runner?"

"No, but…."

"Then could you leave me alone for awhile, sir? I'm feeling pretty drained. I should try and get some more sleep."The captain looked like he wanted to argue with me until I brought my eyes back to meet his.

"Alright Lieutenant, I'll take that paperwork off your hands and you get some more rest. I'm gonna need you back on duty as soon as you're able. "I nodded as I passed him the paperwork.

"Yes sir."

-- -- --

I did sleep after the captain left… eventually. After I made myself a promise that I wouldn't cry anymore for Rebecca, or the others we'd lost, until the vampire responsible for their deaths was reduced to naught but a pile of ash. I also promised myself that I would be there to watch as the bastard fell; whether my superiors wanted me there, or not.

-- -- --

_*knock knock* _The quiet sound of someone's knuckles rapping on the door brought me to consciousness but did not bring me coherent thought. A jumbled mess of sounds fell from my lips as I tried to figure out where I was and what was going on.

"Lieu… lieutenant? Lieutenant, a… are you awake?" The slightly stuttering voice was timid and quiet indicating that it wasn't an officer. I lifted my head off the pillow and blinked blearily at the door.

"Yeah?" My voice emerged as little more than a croak so I cleared my throat and tried again "Yeah?"

"Lieutenant, m… may we have a word with you please?" The voice was familiar, but I couldn't place it. Whoever it was, they didn't sound threatening so I didn't see any harm in letting them in; although, that could just be the logic of an individual who is practically talking in her sleep.

"Come in." I pushed myself upright and switched on the lamp by my bed.

The door opened a crack and then hesitantly opened the rest of the way.

"I'm sorry if we woke you Lieutenant….I just… I...I." This frightened stutterer (he must have heard the stories about my nasty morning temper) was one of new recruits. To be precise it was the private whom I had helped to shoot the empty shell that used to be his friend back in New Orleans. Behind him was one of our sergeants. I struggled for a moment trying to drudge up the private's name before finally having to resort to looking at his name patch. At least I didn't have to struggle for the sergeant's name.

"It's alright private Brill. I'm not mad. Don't worry about it. Just tell me why you and Sgt. are here." He relaxed slightly upon hearing my assurances that I wasn't angry with them only to tense up again when he remembered he had a reason for coming here.

I sighed and propped myself up against the headboard when it appeared he had completely lost his voice.

"Just relax kid, breathe. I'm not going to bite." He made an attempt at a smile but it couldn't hold. put his hand on the private's shoulder and it seemed to give the kid strength.

"I wanted to as…. I mean we……." He swallowed and looked at the sergeant for support who nodded. "We saw what you did in New Orleans; we saw what you became." I closed my eyes for a moment. I had been expecting something like this to happen sooner or later just not before I was released from the infirmary. "I need to…we need to know Lieutenant." He made eye contact and held it. _–Brave boy. -_ "We need to what you are, ma'am. W… we just need to know." I watched him as he stood there sweating but holding his ground all the same. _–He must have volunteered for this. Brave boy.-_

"I assume that you speak for the entire unit." They both nodded. I looked down and thought about what I should tell them. This hadn't been something that my superiors had discussed with me yet and what I say now could very well determine my future with my unit, the men and women who had put their trust into me and followed me into battle time and time again. _–They deserve the truth. - _I raised my head and met each pair of eyes before me in turn.

"I am a witch." Those four little words put both men into a state of shock. I was sure they'd suspected something along those lines but I guess it was still surprising, to say the least, to hear me flat out say it. was the first to recover.

"Why didn't you tell us? Why keep something like that a secret?"

"Simply put, besides being ordered to keep it quiet, I was afraid." blinked. Clearly he hadn't been expecting that. Perhaps he had been expecting, or hoping for, some sinister reason for my secrecy.

"Why?" The private had found his voice.

"Is it not obvious? This organization was created to destroy monsters and in the eyes of many I am a monster. Not to mention there is that little mistranslated passage in the bible which has cost so many their lives. I learned these things the hard way when the wrong person found out what I was and took everything from me. _Every_thing." My eyes fell to my arms where my right hand was playing with the cuff of my left sleeve. "I was nothing more than a college student, just trying to earn my degree, and they did this to me." I shoved up my left sleeve and held my arm out for my subordinates to see, the lamp light throwing the scars into sharp relief. I heard a sharp intake of breath and I looked up. was wearing a grim expression and Brill, well; Brill looked like he was going to throw up. _–I didn't think they looked _that_ bad.-_

"What did they do to you?" My attention was drawn back to the sergeant.

"They tried to burn me at the stake."

"And what crimes did you commit to deserve that?"

"I was born." looked straight into my eyes as if he was trying to see into my very soul. After what seemed an eternity he nodded and looked away. I blinked my eyes rapidly several times and looked over at the private. He was looking from me to the sergeant and back again: trying to figure out what exactly it was that just happened.

"Are you alright private?" It was his turn to blink, startled from his hard thinking.

"Kid, it's time for us to go." We were both startled this time and our attention was brought to . "Our Lieutenant needs her rest if she's going to recover any time soon." The private nodded and scurried over to and out the door with the sergeant following. paused with one hand on the door and looked back at me.

"You'd best recover quickly lieutenant. Most of these punks don't know a rifle from their own dick," I snorted. always had been a little crude. "we need you back if we're going to have any hope of turning them into anything resembling actual soldiers." He smiled a little. "Sleep well ma'am." And with that he shut the door.

I stared at the door for a couple minutes after it had shut as I tried to process the last thing said to me. _–I guess I passed the test. _His_ test at least - _With that last thought, and a heavy sigh, I switched out the light, lay back and returned to the sweet oblivion of sleep.

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I know this and the last chapter have kinda slow but they were necessary for the story.

Thank you for reading now please review. I really would hate to have to track you down and beat you with a wet fish. For one thing it would be a lot of work; for another, I don't want to smell like fish. So please do us both a favor and review.


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